An Encounter in the Common Room
by catching-firenze
Summary: As Hermione leaves the welcoming feast, the last thing she was expecting was an encounter like this. Unbeknownst to her, that encounter is the start of something much bigger.
1. An Encounter in the Common Room

_This is my first time writing something like this so I hope that you enjoy it. This is just a short chapter for now.  
>Reviews are more than welcome, and suggestions as to where to go from here!<em>

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><p>Hermione's thoughts were only on that of her four poster bed lying in wait in the Gryffindor's girls dormitory as she ambled up the steps of the Grand Staircase, her left hand grazing the bannister slightly in a half-hearted effort to pull herself along. She had stolen herself from the feast shortly after the first years had been sorted into their corresponding houses, which was subsequent to a rather pitchy and out of tune rendition of the Sorting Hat's annual introductory song which this year featured a special interlude that, rather optimistically, warned of 'great peril' to all those studying at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft &amp; Wizardry.<p>

She had very much wanted to hear of how Ron and Harry's summer had been, to be able to catch up with Ginny and perhaps have a chance to ask Professor McGonagall whether she could hang some S.P.E.W posters up in the Gryffindor common room that she had taken the trouble of carefully designing during the holidays.

_But that can wait, Harry and Ron probably won't even notice you're gone, _she reassured herself. She had felt bad for leaving them so shortly after having just seen them for the first time in nine weeks, but was sure they'd understand that she might need her sleep - after all, she was probably the only student in Hogwarts that had devoted herself and her summer to reading the required texts, needed for this year, cover to cover multiple times just in case she had missed something crucial.

_Seeing them will be something you can look forward to tomorrow for, _she told herself, and with that she rounded on to the last staircase and glided up the last few stone steps leading up to the large portrait of the Fat Lady, resident guard of the entrance into Gryffindor Tower.

The Fat Lady had not changed from the last time Hermione had encountered her, she still wore the same sickly fuchsia dress that was adorned with weathered tufts of a similar coloured lace around the cuffs and collar, her jet black hair hanging in perfect ringlets down to her bust. It almost appeared to Hermione, however, that she had perhaps gained weight, and she wondered to herself whether that was even possible for a painting - not that she would be surprised if it was. Hogwarts often had a way of accomplishing the seemingly impossible.

Upon Hermione's arrival, the woman did not falter from her current position of staring at herself attentively into a spoon that was clasped in her right hand, her left hand tracing her face animatedly. Hermione softly cleared her throat, and the Fat Lady cast her a quick glance before returning to admiring her reflection in the cutlery.

_'Password?' _she requested with an air of nonchalance.

_'Oh... Well, you haven't actually given us one yet,' _Hermione replied sheepishly.

The Fat Lady's eyes glanced lazily back over to Hermione again and began opening her mouth to reveal the password, but then her eyes grew distant and slowly shifted, focusing past Hermione, straining in what seemed as though an attempt to see something clearer, all the while Hermione looked intently up at the woman, trying to understand what was going on. Suddenly, the Fat Lady's eyes grew wide with fear and recognition as she attempted to clambered backwards, falling over a stool in the process , and swung her frame open, revealing the entrance to the common room.

'_Wha-' _she began, but before she could question the womans odd behaviour, something large and hard collided with her back, sending her and the offending unknown flying over the threshold and landing promptly in a heap of tangled limbs on the familiar thread-bare carpet that belonged to Gryffindor common room.

She lay where she landed, bewildered, numb as to what was going on around her, the blood rushing through her head so violently it felt as though it threatened to burst. She blinked once or twice, cheek still pressed against the floor, trying to accustom her eyes to the new surroundings yet they remained hazed and, as she tried to free a hand up to her face, she felt her arm trapped underneath something, or indeed someone, that was stirring on the floor next to her

_'Wow.. close one that! I almost thought we were done for,' _came a muffled voice from far above her. '_C'mon you lazy git, get up!' _it continued_._

_'Alright mum, don't get your knickers all up in a twist!' _retorted another voice, one that she knew_ all _too well and, as she heard scuffles of movement against the carpet, her arm freed, allowing her to roll over on to her back and prop herself up with her hands. It became apparent that neither of the two were even aware of Hermione's being there until one of them met her icy glare as he turned to walk further in to the common room.

'_Oh,' _he began with a start. '_Hello Hermione, what brings you here?' _he said, feigning innocence, given away by a playful grin that was quickly stretching across his face, the exact same looked mirrored on the face of the other male also.

_Why was it that, whenever there was trouble, Fred Weasley seemed to be involved?_


	2. Confrontation

_'I should have known' _she said, though more so to herself than to either of the Weasley Twins who were still positioned, standing in front of her, looking quite amused at the situation they found themselves in. Hermione, however, was rather less amused and had not yet ceased delivering her cold glare from her place on the thread-bare carpet, continuing to look up into their faces in what seemed a futile attempt to detect _any _remorse for sending her flying through the common room, as her stare prompted an even wider grin to escape the twin's faces. After a short moment, she rolled her eyes and stuck her chin out slightly before beginning to speak again.

_'What** brings** me here is that I was planning to get an early night, not something that the either of y-' _ she said in a decidedly louder voice than before, trying to sound assertive, but stopped herself short. She paused for a split-second of thought, then, turning her focus to Fred alone and narrowing her eyes suspiciously a fraction, she started up again, '_Actually, don't you think I could ask you the same question?'_

Fred gave a short charming laugh whilst looking at the floor and, as he raised his head, he flashed his signature mischievous smile that was slightly cocked to one side and met Hermione's look with an equally intent look of his own, un-fleeting, his brown eyes staring back in to hers. She felt a twinge at the intensity of his eyes on her, and became aware that her cheeks were hotter as they turned a faint scarlet. However, to Hermione's relief, this went unnoticed by either of the twins and although Fred's eyes were on Hermione, it was his to his twin behind him that he directed his speech.

_'What do you think George?' _he said without ceasing his eye contact with the girl, tilting his head back slightly, a smile in his voice, '_Shall we let 'Mione here into our little secret?'_

_'Oh I don't know Freddie' _George responded, faking a tone of worry and speaking to the back of his brothers head, '_We wouldn't want her and little Ronniekins running their mouth to old McGonagall.' _At this answer, Fred's slender lips curled upwards in to an even larger smile and Hermione could quite easily tell they were mocking her. She was about to retort back with what _exactly_ she thought of them when Fred spoke up again.

_'Oo, tough luck 'Mione, maybe you'll have better luck next time. And not-' _he laughed, glancing back at his brother.

'-_be in the wrong place at the wrong time so you don't get sent flying' _George carried on where his brother had left off, laughing quietly to himself

_'Look, you might as well get up. As comfortable as you might be, you'll probably get stampeded by a load of Gryffindor's before too long' _Fred laughed, and as he did so, he leaned forward somewhat and gestured his right hand out for Hermione to help herself up on, all the while retaining their staring competition.

She stared back up at him and watched his wide grin falter in to an honest smile, the rest of his face following suit, now looking more kind than mischievous. She was the first to break the staring betwixt them in favour of staring down in to her lap as she couldn't quite cope looking in to his eyes, not when they were so fixated on her. Instead of finding his hand with hers, she pushed herself up easily, dusted the knees of her trousers with the backs of her hands, and drew herself up to her full height which, admittedly, was nothing compared to either Fred or George's.

Smiling at this act of stubbornness, Fred drew his right hand back awkwardly and allowed it to find his hair, ruffling it lazily as the three of them still stood facing each other in the passageway in to the bulk of the common room. Cocking her eyebrow slightly, she gave out a inaudible sigh and let her eyes rake over the two boys standing opposite her.

They were both wearing their school uniforms with the proud colours of Gryffindor emblazoned along the hem and cuffs of their ash grey sweaters, which fell a bit too short on the arms, and their ties tied in a tight knot that lay a good few inches under an undone top button, where a small glance of the crook of Fred's collar bone could just be seen. Her eyes moved on quickly, and she decided that it was obvious the twins were always going to be careless about their appearance, which was only reiterated in the sight of their unkempt ginger hair that fell just below the ear, flicking out at the ends.

Noticing that George had caught her looking the two of them up and down, she instead devoted her attentions to her surroundings as she turned her back to the two and tried to focus her attention upon a nearby arm chair in order to appear busy, when she saw a large peculiar box nestled by it. It was a garish pumpkin colour with an engraving of the letter 'W' on it's front. George looked at the girl uncertainly, but upon following her line of gaze, let out a small uncomfortable noise and shuffled in front of the package, obstructing it with his lower half as best as possible.

Realization struck Hermione in an instant and she spun back around to face Fred wildly. _'So that's why you knocked me over?' _she demanded fiercely, '_You're back to that idiotic business of yours? You know I'll have to tell McGonagall about this'_

George looked sheepishly to Fred, who rolled his eyes dramatically, which only seemed to fuel Hermione's frustration further. _'Filch was coming, he's always suspecting that we're up to something-' _Fred explained, before Hermione interjected, '_And quite rightly so!' _she pointed out reprovingly.

_'Come off it 'Mione, we did a silencing spell on our shoes so that he couldn't hear where we were off to hide our products, and next minute we're laying face down in the common room, you underneath us. So really, it isn't our fault at all' _Fred finished, shrugging his shoulders innocently. He looked over at Hermione who had now crossed her arms and noticed her cheeks flush slightly at what he had just said. Then, he walked large strides over to where George stood in front of the box and whispered someone in a low voice in to his brothers ear. Upon hearing whatever it was that Fred had said, George made to pick up the pumpkin coloured boxed, straining with its wait slightly as his shoulders dipped, and then disappeared out of one of the doors leading from the common room, box in hand.

_What does he want_, she thought to herself as she shuffled her feet and tried to look anywhere that he wasn't. When she chanced a look in his direction, she saw that he was several steps closer than before and the expression on his face was kind again, and quite, she must admit, endearing. He flashed her an uncertain smile, and with this she casually turned her head to stare in to the fireplace to her left, admiring the ruby stems of fire that licked the stone surrounding it.

_'..'Mione, you're not really going to tell McGonagall are you' _came Fred's voice to break the silence, an unexpected tenderness to it. '_It's only the first day of term, she'll probably make us clean Myrtle's bathroom with toothbrushes or something.'_

Hermione broke her facade for a moment, letting slip a small smile, which Fred noticed and took as permission to be able to move closer.

'_And I don't think you hate poor old us enough to do that' _he continued, sticking out his lower lip and widening his eyes in an effort to win her around. This time she gave a quiet laugh, shaking her head slightly, and turning to face Fred properly. '_You know that you look ridiculous don't you?' she said softly._

_'Me?' _he spoke, feigning offence at the comment, '_Well you really know how to make a guy feel good about himself'_

At this she gave another modest smile, but become terribly aware that her head was still throbbing from the encounter earlier and she swayed a little on her feet as she brought a slightly trembling hand to her forehead, steadying herself with her other arm propped on the chair to her right. Fred closed the gap between them in a few quick steps and reared his head near Hermione's, his hand now gingerly grazing the side of her cheek as his eyes found hers once more.

'_Are you alright 'Mione?' _he asked, genuine worry apparent in his voice.

'_...Yes, I think I'm fine, it must have been from the fall earlier' _she responded, slowly recovering from her dizzy spell.

'_You ought to look after yourself better Granger, I'm not always going to be here to save the day' _he spoke, laughing to himself.

Her body failed her once again as she felt the scarlet return to her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes for a moment to recover herself before pushing Fred's hand from her face firmly, drawing herself up and looking back up in to his eyes once again.

_'I' _she spoke assertively, '_can very well take care of myself.'_

And with those words Hermione turned to stalk up the stairs to the Girls Dormitory, but not after having dramatically stumbled over a rumpled piece of carpet that caught her foot by surprise. She steadied herself quickly, and took a slow deep intake of breath before sticking her chin out further and continued to make her way over to the steps, trying to make sure that she salvaged at least a little dignity.

'_'Mione...' _came Fred's voice from behind her; she turned, expecting to be met by an 'I-told-you-so' face but was instead surprised to see that Fred met her with a polite smile. But before she could find herself impressed by the maturity of not always having to be right, the smile grew crooked at one side and returned back to his ever playful grin.

'_Watch your step' _he spoke coolly, accompanying it with a quick wink.

_Typical, _she thought inwardly as she turned on the spot and glided up the rest of the steps ahead of her, _Note to self: Never expect that there's a better side of Fred Weasley. _Her head still spinning slightly and her back twinging with pain, she finally happened upon her four poster bed and slipped of her shoes, and then proceeded to slide under the crisp covers not caring that she was still fully clothed, just happy that she could finally get her well deserved rest.

Fred, meanwhile, still stood alone in the common room below, mulling over what had just happened in his head. With a glance up to the roof where he knew Hermione would be, he smiled to himself, shaking his head, before making his way to his own dormitory in a cheerful mood.

_There was no one that he enjoyed riling up more than Hermione Jean Granger._


	3. The Morning After

The horizon cradled the rising sun in its overbearing arms, mothering it, protecting it from the vast expanse of nothing that hung densely around them. But, as sure as the rivers flow and winter would follow autumn, the sun began to gradually climb towards the heavens, leaving the land beneath in its wake. All the while, it weaved webs of temperate light betwixt the dilute pearly grays and deep violets of the subdued early morning sky.

A strong breeze followed suit, stirring from the far east and dancing along the grounds of the castle. It taunted the Whomping Willow, disturbing its arms of leaves from their sleep and threatening to blow the tree over. The willow, however, stood strong as it always had with its roots of iron and ushered the gale elsewhere. It continued onward on its path but, as it stormed over the grounds, its vigor and might subsided slowly to the point where it had decayed into a light, and quite pleasant, draft by the time it had reached the castle itself.

A delicate ray of light trickled through the open window in the girls dormitory and caught Hermione through a narrow gap in the drawn curtains attached to her four poster bed, that Padma Patil had kindly closed upon returning from the feast with her sister and fellow Gryffindors so that she wasn't disturbed. The taper of light prompted her to awaken from her sleep, and, as she awoke, she rolled over onto her back, staring up at the canopy of the bed, feeling the most rested and tranquil she had in a long time.

The curtains moved easily under her touch as she drew them open wide, still laying down encased by the warmth of her scarlet and gold bedding, and she quickly surveyed the room. The rest of the dormitory was empty and she craned her neck back in to her pillow to nestle further into it. _Probably all at breakfast I presume. _Having said that, her stomach gave a low grumble and she was suddenly aware that she was really quite peckish - after all, she _had _forgone the plenty plates of food available at the welcoming feast, which probably would have tided her over until Christmas in terms of hunger.

With this thought in mind, she explored her bedside table with her right hand for a small hand-held mirror that her mother had given her early for her birthday, as Hermione's birthday fell whilst she'd be at Hogwarts. Upon finding the article, she brought it above her face in attempt to make sure she looked presentable enough to go to the Great Hall. Although she didn't care for use of makeup and hair potions like the other girls at school, she _was_ still a girl.

Suddenly, she sat bolt upright, mirror still aloft. Her jaw slung agape. Her eyes widened, startled. Just above her left eye, high on the temple, was the ugliest brown and red bruise that she'd ever had the displeasure of seeing in her life. She maneuvered the mirror wildly in all different perspectives as though to catch it out on its lie, but however which way she looked at herself, she was met by the same awful stain on her skin.

_'Fred' _she stated accusingly, feeling furious at both him _and _his twin for knocking her over the night before, making a mental note to try out a spell that she'd been reading about this summer on the two of them. It wouldn't embarrass them, much.

Without thinking too much, she pulled her sweater off quickly and replaced it with a fresh one, not bothering to change the rest of the uniform that she'd fallen asleep in, and she marched down the stairs to the common room, her heels digging in to the stone with each step. She continued walking at the same pace all the way down the Grand Staircase, rounding each corner quite violently, colliding with a few bewildered first year Ravenclaws on her way. However, somewhere between leaving the common room and reaching the Great Hall, her mood had transmogrified from concentrated anger at the Weasley twins, to being horrendously embarrassed thanks to the stares she was receiving due to the new prominent addition to her forehead.

She stopped just short of the closed doors to the Great Hall and bowed her head an inch, hunching her shoulders slightly, so that the onlookers wouldn't see her position a clump of hair so that it sat over the bruise neatly. She then planted her hands on either door, giving a great push so that they swung open to reveal hundreds of hungry students sat at four tables the length of the room, and swept inside.

Mid-way to reaching the Gryffindor table where she spied Harry stood with his back to her and Ron stood across from him, talking animatedly (probably about Quidditch she thought), a voice oilier than cooling bacon grease reached her ears.

_'Look at Granger' _it snarled, '_My bet's she got that bruise from sticking her damn nose in books all day long.'_

A few sniggers followed.

She knew that voice too well. Without missing a beat, she stopped in her tracks and turned to look him directly in the eye.

'_At least I can actually read Malfoy' _she hissed, _'I expect your Dad has been a bit too busy lately to teach you how.'_

He seethed and made to lunge from his seat, however Pansy was quick and, with help from Blaise, she managed to wrestle him back to face away from Hermione, and she heard murmured whispers begin between the three of them.

Hermione hadn't stuck around to see Draco's expression but imagined he was livid, as he was when anyone spoke of the predicament his father was in, and she toyed with the idea of turning around to revel in making him react but thought it wise to carry on walking - she didn't really want to be cursed by a load of Slytherins first thing in the morning. She patted her hair over the bruise once more, making sure it was properly concealed this time. By this point, she was only a few steps away from Harry's back, and smiled to herself. Then, she gave a slight run up and threw her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly.

Harry, who was not expecting this type of greeting, was bowled over slightly but recovered his footing quickly, turned around and embraced Hermione tighter, clenching folds of her sweater in his fists. When they pulled away from each other, she flashed an awkward smile to Ron, who shifted on his feet slightly but returned the smile even broader.

There was nothing more that Hermione enjoyed then being in the company of her two best friends, sitting across from each other, joking about life and sharing their tales of the summer just gone. She listened for the most part, as she didn't reckon they'd be too enthralled by her readings on uses for Monkshood or the trivial facts about Gilderoy Lockhart that she'd picked up somewhere - especially the last part, seeing as they still hadn't really forgiven him for trying to wipe their memories and leave them to die in the Chamber of Secrets.

It was at that point that Harry told a particularly funny joke about a Banshee and an invisibility cloak, and both Ron and Hermione threw their heads back wildly, loud giggles and howls of laughter escaping their lips. It took a short while for Hermione to compose herself, but she did, and as she was about to ask Harry whether or not the Dursleys had allowed him to let Hedwig out at nights like they had done last summer, she was met by the sight of the smiles dropping from the both of the boys faces.

'_What?' _she asked curiously.

_'Hermione' _Harry voiced, '_Where'd you get that bruise from? It looks terrible.'_

_'Oh..' _she said simply, tracing the bruise with the tips of her fingers, making another mental note to maybe use a more brutal spell on the twins. '_Fred and George, they crashed into me last night when I left early and sent me flying across the common room.'_

_'My brothers did that?' _asked Ron, shocked. '_Sorry Hermione, Fred and George can be really stupid sometimes. I swear to god, when I see them I'll-' _he continued, voice full of bravado, when he failed to notice the sight of Fred and George walking behind him, stopping upon hearing there names. When they realized it was their brother, they crept up behind him and clambered over the bench on either side of Ron, grinning wildly.

'_Singing our praises are you Ronniekins?' _George asked, pinching Ron's cheek.

'_Honestly, you're making me blush' _Fred said, pretending to be flattered by holding his hand to his chest, pinching Ron's other cheek tightly and tugging on it.

Ron grimaced slightly, feeling his cheeks turn scarlet - partly from the pinches, partly from the embarrassment of being overheard. However, he did his best to keep up a brave face.

'_Well, look what you've done to her!' _he said pitchily, pointing at the ugly bruise situated on Hermione's forehead.

Hermione glowered at them as she felt the twins gaze linger over the the bruise, and she thought that perhaps for a second she saw a glimmer of guilt flex Fred's eyes. However she was interrupted in this thought by George who had spoken up.

'_Ouch, sorry Hermione. Tell you what, you can get any Weasley Wizarding Wheezes product you want on the house!' _he suggested, winking when he had finished.

Fred looked over at his brother as though to tell him that he was being very distasteful. Then, a glint of mischievousness adorned a smile that crept onto his face.

'_What did I tell you this morning? No wonder she's got a bruise that size with you stuffing your gob all the time' _Fred quipped, his grin crooking up to the side.

'_You git!' _George laughed, reaching to smack his twin around the back of the head. Fred dodged, making George catch Ron on the ear, and whilst Ron and George argued with each other, Fred's returned to looking at Hermione, and Hermione tried to avoid his gaze awkwardly.

Hermione suddenly felt very uncomfortable and wondered whether she could slip from the table without any of them noticing. Part of her wanted to curse both Fred and George to high heavens for not even saying sorry for what they had done, but then another, more dominant, part just wanted to shrink so that she was even smaller than a Pixie. She had always felt that way when Fred stared at her in that way. It was almost smoldering, and bore into her, and she felt very exposed.

Fred was about to open his mouth when Hermione kicked her leg over the bench, and turned to stand.

'_I think I better be getting to my lessons' _she murmured mid-way through getting up.

Harry raised his eyebrow at her, and looked entirely puzzled. '_Lessons aren't for another while' _he pointed out.

'_Oh, yes, of course, but I think I'll stop by Professor McGonagall's to ask about some S.P.E.W posters' _she answered briskly.

Although they tried to hide it well, Hermione saw that both Harry and Ron had rolled their eyes at this last comment and she sighed before sweeping the length of hall, out of the giant oak doors, and turning the corner.

Fred looked at George confused. _What on this good earth was 'spew'?_

He shook his head complacently, summarizing that it was probably something that wasn't interesting in the slightest, and turned his attention to the teetering pile of sausages that were on a plate only an arms reach away. As he made to reach for it, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He saw some Slytherin girls that he didn't really recognize speeding quickly from the room and rip around the corner out of the Great Hall. He furrowed his brow slightly and turned his head to table they had just left to see a certain Draco Malfoy, sat by himself, smirking viciously.

_What's that slimy git up to?_


	4. A Horrible Situation

_Crack. _A sharp beam of fiery red spun from the tips of their wands and simultaneously collided with Hermione's back in an instant.

She barely had time to make sense of what was happening before she was hit again, this time by a bolt of jagged green that carved a shallow and short slit in to her neck as it just grazed her and proceeded to ricochet off of the walls ahead of her, small brands of ashen circles adorning the walls where the spell had stung. As she reached for her wand that was stored in her trouser pocket, she was hit by another blow. Indescribable pain jaunted her body, scorching every nerve ending, reaching every extremity. She felt her back arch and knees begin to buckle and, as they gave way, she could do nothing other than feel herself land with a loud thud on the cold, stone floor beneath her.

She lay there in the corridor, injured and bleeding, fighting inwardly to stay conscious. When she tried breathing it had become difficult, the air taking like daggers to her lungs, and she felt suffocated. Her right arm was crushed underneath her body, hand still furled around the shaft of the wand, whilst her other arm was strewn outwards, limp and numb from agony. She could barely feel the rest of her body, a tangled mess, and she wondered whether she should just curl up into a ball and let the pain swallow her whole. Her mind slipped deeper and deeper, pleads for help from someone, anyone, desperately trying to break through the haze. _Help. Please. Someone help me. _She heard muffled voices and laughter from afar and battled with herself against surrendering, against drifting off in to a pleasant mental blank in to which her attackers could not stray.

_Don't give up, _she urged herself. _You're strong Hermione, fight this._

And like a lighthouse beacon cutting through the obscuring fog of the high seas, her words drifted through the depths of her mind and gave her new found clarity, pulling herself from the brink of submission. She wasn't going to give up so easily. Instead, she grasped the wand even tighter and drew it slowly from her pocket. Then, with a bright flash, she had rolled over and sent a spell shooting over to the group of 4 girls that were standing a few meters away from her, looking though they had been assessing whether they'd just killed a student or not, and hit the tallest black-haired girl straight in the stomach. This sent her flying backwards and she hit the wall, slumped down it and landed on the floor with a _crunch._

The three remaining girls wheeled around to look at their fallen friend, but only for a short second before spinning to face Hermione with a renewed hatred.

_'You'll pay for that Granger!' _one of them, a short white-haired girl, shrieked. '_Locomotor M-' _she began to scream, wand aimed at Hermione.

However, Hermione was too quick for her and before the girl had even finished the incantation, Hermione had shot a spell her way that had caused large puss-filled boils to sprout all over her face. Upon catching her reflection in a nearby window, she howled and clutched her face in a vain attempt to stop even more appearing. Although Hermione would normally find a Slytherin in trouble hilarious, she couldn't bring herself to laugh because, frankly, she had never been more terrified. These girls were hell-bent on seriously injuring her and she doubted whether a few pimples would stop them doing so.

Still half-doubling over in pain, she took off through a door that was a few meters back to her left. It led onto another empty corridor. She tried to run but her legs were failing her, still weak from collapsing earlier, only capable of half-limping half-jogging down the hall. Summarizing that she probably wouldn't get far before the girls drew themselves from trying to fix the boils on the white-haired girls face for long enough to realise that she'd gone, she darted through a set of large wooden doors to her right.

Upon entering the room, she found herself to be in a rather dilapidated and unsightly bathroom. In the middle of the high, circular room stood a few primitive stone columns that had basins attached to them with large brass taps above it. There wasn't much else in there other than a couple of ornate metal brackets that were placed high up on the wall holding slender white candles that appeared to never have been lit. Due to this, the room was very poorly lit, even at this time in the morning, as the only source of light was through a narrow slit in the wall opposite her. She then realized that leading off from the circular room on either side were further areas that had rows of toilets stalls lining the walls, much like Moaning Myrtles bathroom.

She set off limping towards the left row of toilets, and stole into one of the cubicles at the end, sitting with her back against the toilet, tucking her legs towards her body and wrapping her arms around them. _Please let them have gone._

Her heart sunk as she heard the door into the bathroom creak open and footsteps echo off the stone floor as they ushered in.

'_Granger, I know you're in here' _she heard a girl call loudly, but Hermione could hear the speckles of uncertainty in her voice so she did not reply, and instead pulled her legs in tighter.

_'You should have played nice with Draco and maybe you wouldn't be in this mess!' _another girl taunted.

The footsteps moved further into the room, and she was thankful that the room was poorly lit so that they wouldn't be able to make out the sight of her feet underneath the stall door.

A loud crash suddenly filled the room. Hermione allowed herself to peak through a slender gap in the cubicle door to see that one of the girls had sent a curse flying at one of the cubicles on the other side, sending the door of it almost flying off its hinges and water shooting up in the air.

The same girl repeated it to another cubicle. And again. And again. And again, so that now that the majority of the bathroom floor was now covered in water. As it slowly trickled its way to Hermione's stall, it caught her skin and sent a twinge of pure ice shooting up her spine. She took a deep breath. _It's either you face them or get blown up along with a toilet. _

With that thought in mind, she drew herself up, yanked open the door of her hiding place and stepped bravely to face the three girls that were only meters from her, grinning wildly at her arrival. Hermione twisted her wand her right hand as her eyes flickered from one girl to the next, to the next, trying to determine which of them would be the one to cast the first spell against her.

'_Looks like we've caught ourselves a mudblood' _the white-haired girl spat, seemingly having recovered from her bout of boils. With a flick of her wand, the girl sent a curse in Hermione's direction. Hermione moved just in time to narrowly avoid being hit by a violent shaft of emerald, which instead hit the wall behind where she was standing moments ago and split into two separate bolts that bounced around the room. The girls were sent scattering as one of the bolts came flying straight back at them, parting them and sending jets of water speeding up in to the air from where it had hit the ground and dispersed.

That didn't discourage them though as they regrouped and continued firing spell after spell in Hermione's direction, only for Hermione to dodge them or rebound it back at them before sending a curse of her own. She was fighting admirably, though only sending spells to disarm or knock her opponents back a little - the same could not be said for the Slytherins. It seemed to Hermione as though they were fighting to seriously injure, or worse, kill.

Hermione only let her attention wain for a split-second when a curse hit her in her stomach, sending her backwards and colliding with the brick wall behind her. She struggled to stay stood, her knees began to feel weak again, but she wasn't about to let them win. Not now. She couldn't.

She weakly attempted sending a spell at the white-haired girl once more but she easily deflected it with a lazy flick of her wand.

'_Nobody's here to help you Granger... you're all alone' _she sneered, and sent another spell flying at Hermione, but was displeased to see that the girl refused to fall under the pain, and her wicked grin faltered slightly. She sent yet another and, although she let out a small squeal of agony, Hermione again refused to succumb to it.

Hermione felt her whole body writhe inwardly with pain. Her eyes became heavily-lidded and she felt the familiar haze of almost-unconsciousness begin to take hold of her. She felt everything around her grow silent... distant. She let her body slump slightly against the wall as she looked on into the girls faces, they were all intermingled and formed one huge blur to her, and she almost welcomed another spell. She could feel herself slip further into the blackness.

But suddenly, a loud ringing fell upon her ears, almost deafening. There was loud noises. And bursts of bright light. And what sounded like shrieking. And the mass of obscure blur in front of her begin to break back up into three... no, wait, four. She was sure there was four. But before she could make sure, the dark human-shaped blobs disappeared from sight, vanished, gone. Apart from one.

She blinked quickly, trying to regain some clarity of sight. She wanted to know which of the girls this was. Perhaps it was the tall black-haired girl she stunned earlier, she thought, who had come back around and now wanted revenge on her, sending the others away so they wouldn't see the cruel things she'd do to her. A single thread of tears began to roll down Hermione's cheek and she closed her eyes once more, too weak to fight, waiting for the pain.

'_Hermione!' _a voice shouted, full of pain and tears. She heard footsteps rip over the floor, causing brigades of ripples lapping across the water-covered floor, and felt a large hand wrap around her waist, the other found its way into her wild brown hair in an instant, and pulled her away from the wall and into a strong, close embrace as though they'd part. Her eyes lulled open. She stood for a minute, not caring who it was, only knowing that she felt safe, she felt saved, letting out low sobs into his shoulder. Taking in a deep breath, she caught a smell that surprised her. A warm, familiar smell. One that she surprised herself by recognizing straight away.

_But... How? Why? It couldn't be... could it?_

She pulled her head from him for a moment, and looked up in to his face, reaffirming what she had thought. But, his eyes were brimming over with tears themselves and he didn't bother to stop the ones that fell, letting them fall silently over his cheek. He stared back at her, letting his eyes rake over her face, assessing the damage that had been done to her.

'_I'm sorry Hermione. I could've... I-I should've...' _he half-choked, but Hermione stopped him.

'_Thank you' _she whispered weakly.

At that, Fred nodded feebly and Hermione nestled her head back into the crook of his shoulder, allowing him to run his fingers through her hair once more. He wanted to hug her tighter, tell her that everything would be alright, that he'd find the girls and make them pay for what they'd done, but all he could muster was a comforting kiss on her forehead as they stood in the dimly lit bathroom, both concealed in their own fragmented thoughts.


	5. Letting Go

They stood in the grimy bathroom for what had felt like hours, her head fitting perfectly in the curve of his shoulder and his head, craned over hers, nestling in to the side of her hair, his hand instinctively rubbing comforting circles in to the small of her back. He freed his other hand from her hair for a moment to try and compose himself, rubbing at his eyes that stung under his touch. He kicked himself for crying in front of her, and _why _he cried he'd never know. Never in his life had he felt more exposed in front of someone, especially a _girl._

It was at that point that he suddenly became aware of how close he was to Hermione. Both of her hands were casually pushed up against his chest, gripping the folds of his shirt loosely, and her body was pushed up against his as she took slow, steady breaths into his covered collar bone. With every breath she took, he could feel her fragile body expand and contract slightly with his hand that was wrapped around her once more, and she cuddled further in to the comfort of his neck. His heartbeat quickened at this, and he was sure that, with their bodies as close as they were, she would be able to notice. Looking all around the room for something to distract him, he suddenly decided that the far wall was absolutely fascinating and took to counting how many bricks there were.

When he'd finally concluded that there were 245, after double checking a few times, he was the first to break the silence.

_'Um, are you alright Hermione?' _he murmered in to her hair.

_Well done Fred, _he criticized inwardly. _Of course she's not alright you git._

Hermione replied with a stiff nod, and a sniffle, before extracting herself from his neck and looking up at him. Her eyes were pale and watery, and wisps of her hair stuck to her face in clumps where faint tear tracks were still evident, and the beginnings of a bruise could be seen forming on her jaw, not to mention she still had the ugly brown bruise the twins had given her. She certainly didn't look alright.

Fred had never really had any experience consoling girls. Whenever he would hear Ginny crying in her bedroom at night, which he presumed would be over Harry, it would always be George that could cheer her up again, or Bill when he was around. He had always wanted to comfort her but he never had the right words to say, and when he did, they got all jumbled up and brought no comfort to anyone whatsoever. He was looking at Hermione now, stood in front of him, and desperately wanted to calm her, reassure her, more than anything in the world. But he couldn't think of a thing.

'_Good' _he said awkwardly, pulling his arms from around her and hanging them limply at his sides, as he rocked on his heels a little.

Hermione turned from him for a minute and took a few steps away, pulling the cuffs of her sweater over her hands and wiping her face with them. When she turned back, she had composed herself but still looked painfully fragile, a few knocks from breaking.

'_How did you find me?' _she asked him, sticking her chin out a fraction.

'_I saw some girls follow you out of the Hall and, um, well I got a bit worried about you' _he admitted, running one of his hands through his hair awkwardly. '_Some of these Slytherins don't need messing with, so after a few minutes I followed them. I lost them for a bit, but then I, um, I heard all the explosions and stuff. Managed to scare them away with a few spells.'_

She looked at him, and he looked back at her, neither of them knowing what to say next.

'_What did you do to them Hermione? To make them do that. What happened?' _Fred asked nervously.

He listened as Hermione quickly recounted what had happened to her, what the girls had done to her, and Fred stood, nodding awkwardly every so often.

'_And, well, I imagine it all started because I made a wise crack at Malfoy at breakfast' _she finished, looking down at the floor.

At the mention of Draco's name, Fred's hands grew in to tight fists by his side and he gritted his teeth hotly.

'_I knew it, I knew he'd have something to do with it!' _he shouted. '_When I get a hold of him he's gonna-' _he began as he made to turn and leave, intent on harming the Slytherin boy, but Hermione grabbed his arm, desperately trying to battle with him.

'_Fred.. Fred, no!' _she pleaded, '_It's what he wants! Don't you see that?'_

Hermione struggled with him, frantically trying to make him see reason, her grip remaining steadfast on his arm as he wrestled with her to let go of him. She hadn't noticed before just how strong Fred was, as he was practically dragging her across the bathroom behind him in his desperation to find Malfoy and have him pay for what he'd done. Seeing that her tactics weren't working, she ripped around so that she was positioned in front of him, her arms placed back on his chest like before, attempting to push him backwards. Although this was slowing him down more than her previous efforts, it still wasn't enough as he was nearly at the door to the bathroom. _Do something Hermione, _she thought, d_o something!_

And without even recognizing what she was doing herself, she had climbed on to her tiptoes and connected her lips with his, stopping him dead in his tracks. Clearly taken aback by this gesture, Fred rocked backwards on his heels for a moment and held his hands up at either side, frozen in shock. But, to her surprise, it didn't take Fred long before he was reciprocating the kiss, playfully biting her lip a little and wrapping his arm back around her waist. Her arms instinctively snaked up towards his neck, one of them finding his hair and tugging on it lightly, and he welcomed her touch and gently pinned her against the wall to their left as he ran his other arm up her side.

Her mind was a blank. She was kissing a Weasley. Fred Weasley.

And it kind of felt... _nice._

But her sense came rushing back to her like a flood tide, drowning her, and she slipped herself from him.

Fred looked even more surprised at this, and made to grab her once more but she pushed him away.

'_Fred, I can't!' _she squealed.

'_How come?' _he asked loudly.

'_Well, me and Ron, he acts... well I mean, there could always be somethi... I can't exactly go around kissing you can I?' _

'_You're the one who kissed me first!' _he reeled hotly, faint trace of hurt in his voice.

'_Yes, I know that-' _she spoke, frustrated with his inability to listen to her.

'_So do you just go around kissing boys on a regular basis? Should I go warn Neville that he's next?' _he asked, with a joke in his voice that, sadly, Hermione didn't pick up on.

'_We're not all on to a new person everyday like some people!' _she barked, offended at the insinuation.

Fred looked at her, wide-eyed in disbelief, looking as though Hermione had just slapped him around the face. _Is that what she really thinks of me?_

_'Do you think you're too good for me?' _he asked her simply.

'_Ha! How dare you Fred! I always knew you were a bit dumb, but I didn't think you were that stupid!' _she shouted back, blinded by her anger, positively shaking with fury, her own tiny hands bawled in to fists.

His face dropped. Broken, hurt. And she immediately regretted every word she had thrown his way.

'_F-Fre-' _she began, but he started backing away from her.

Suddenly, the doors to the bathroom burst open and McGonagall marched through, looking bewildered and confused, the hem of her tartan cloak traipsing behind her in the water. Apparently she had thought the bathroom was empty as, when she saw the figures of Hermione and Fred, she gave a small jump and clutched at her chest.

'_What is the meaning of this?' _she demanded, gesturing wildly to the water that was covering the majority of the floor _and_ to the blown up toilets. Upon remembering Fred's presence, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. '_You wouldn't have anything to do with this would you Mr. Weasley?' s_he carried on.

'_No.' _he answered, his eyes still trained on Hermione.

'_I was just leaving' _he added in a weak voice, and, as he said it, he ripped his eyes from Hermione and turned on his heel.

'_Let's hope I'm not too stupid to find the door' _he murmured over his shoulder, holding crossed fingers up in the air.

The door swung closed behind him with an intense bang, and she felt her stomach tense in regret.

_Great._

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes: Writers block is hitting me really hard the last few times, not fun I tell you!<em>

_Please review and give me ideas!_


	6. The Power of a Kiss

The corridor outside rung with the resonant closing of the doors and all that shook the silence afterwards were the slow, hollow footsteps of Fred Weasley as he moped along with a fallen hearted feeling. Something wasn't quite the same, something had changed, and all he could feel was a sadness that he had no word for. It was as though her words had captured the one insecurity he had ever had about himself, the possibility that maybe he wasn't all that smart, and tormented him with it, showing that she too thought the same thing that he had wondered about himself many a times.

Granted, he wasn't particularly one for books or paying attention in lessons _or_ completing homework on time but that didn't make him stupid... _did it? _It was never like he'd gotten completely terrible grades like some students or blown things up like Seamus routinely did. Infact, he was often quite proud with his abilities in Charms and even, well, enjoyed it. Although he'd never tell the rest of his family that in fear of being teased to no avail.

But the fact remained that Hermione would always be smarter. And she knew it. And had used it against him.

_And that means she'll never give me another look._

_...Not that I want her to._

It was at that moment, just as he had nearly reached the door at the end of the corridor that would lead back towards the Great Hall, that a soft sobbing travelled through the corridor, grazing the walls as it passed and bounding off every surface until it reached the place where he stood as though it was calling to him and him only. It was very delicate, barely audible, yet sounded pained, troubled, too fragile.

And the realization struck him that it must be Hermione. It had to be. There was no one else around.

And she was crying. But what did that mean? Was she sorry? Or was it just shock from what had happened earlier kicking in again? Should he go back and see her? Make sure that she was alright?

_Fred she doesn't want you there, she made that clear enough._

But as he made to carry on towards the door, he found that he couldn't move from his spot. Or rather, he didn't want to.

And inside himself, a war was waging between his ego and his compassion.

_All I'd be doing was making sure she was alright. I mean, that's all. And it'd be the right thing to do.. right?_

_But she made you look stupid. She thinks **you're **stupid. Plus, McGonagall's with her. Just walk away and pretend this never, ever happened._

He brought a weary hand to his head and ruffled it through his hair before holding his breath and turning away from the door to face the corridor behind him. He drew his eyes from the floor and allowed them to linger over the door to the bathroom where he knew the witch would still be, still crying, still bruised and battered. He felt a small twinge pierce his heart at the thought, and that was enough for the suffocating caress of the continuing crying to engulf him whole.

_If Hermione needs me, then I'll be there for her. No matter what._

And with that he took a deep breath out and stepped large certain glides back towards the bathroom, determined to make things better. He'd apologize for being stubborn, and she'd accept and regret what she'd said to him, and he'd take to her to the hospital wing to make sure that she was alright, and then he'd find Draco and have a little one to one with him. He was sure he'd enjoy that the most.

But then the crying stopped.

And it was though the obscure rope pulling him back towards Hermione had been cut and the fine gauze of idealism bounding him collapsed in to chipped fragments, leaving him exposed to his thoughts. He stood paused in the moment, vulnerable, as her bitter words snaked through him and plagued him once more, lacing him with doubt.

Why should he apologize when she was the one who had kissed him and then rejected him? If she wanted Ron so much then why kiss his older brother? And there was no way she'd regret what she'd said, he knew that. _She thinks I'm stupid._

His heart plunged further that he'd have sworn imaginable and acted as a weight on his whole body, neither allowing him to proceed or turn back. And all he could do was listen to her words on repeat again and again.

_I always knew you were a bit dumb, but I didn't think you were that stupid._

He took a shallow breath.

_Of course she doesn't need you._

He drew his bottom lip inwards with his other and stood there for a moment longer. Not sure what he was doing or whether he was waiting for anything, he stood in the silence of his thoughts. Holding his breath once more, he jerked his eyes from the bathroom door, swung around and left.

He wasn't sure where he was going, but anywhere would be better than somewhere where he wasn't wanted.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes: Okay I'm very sorry for how long it's taken me to update!<em>

_But it's been a busy time with getting GCSE results, celebrating, enrolling in college, auditions, induction days, getting in to Pottermore blah blah blah_

_And I apologize for this chapter, I was going to write more but I thought it could get too long so I'm going to cut it into 2._

_Also, I feel that it's differently written from the others and I'm not sure whether I like it, but I think it's just because it's been a while since I've written._

_Also I'd like to say a big thank you to AmazingWingedGirl and SuperAllie because they gave me some ideas that will definitely be included later!_

_ANYWAY, I'm very sorry and as always enjoy and review!_


	7. Back To Gryffindor Tower

His feet treaded empty footsteps along various corridors around the castle for what felt like hours afterwards, hours that all fused into one vast expanse of time that did nothing for consoling his mind. Even now he was none the wiser of where he was going but was sure he would end up somewhere, not that he cared where as long as it was away from Hermione, for now.

Her words still burned holes in him but he made a conscious effort of driving them to the very back of his mind and attempted to replace them with thoughts of new Quidditch tactics, half-hearted ideas for pranks, or of the look of Filch with large pustules decorating his face thanks to another brilliant invention by his truly. But every so often, she'd steal back in to his thoughts to remind him once again why he'd been wandering around the castle all day.

In fact, he was quite surprised that none of the teachers or students that periodically filed in and out of the corridors had thought it odd for him to be taking laps of Hogwarts but he assumed his complete look of cheerlessness warned them against approaching him, which he was rather thankful of. The last thing he needed was for someone to start asking him questions that he didn't really want to give the answers to. Oliver Wood _had _approached him earlier but seemed too blinded by his half-mad ideas for 'never seen before maneuvers' so all Fred had to do was feign interest until Oliver mentioned something about what he had called a '_triple spinned dive-bomb_' and shuttled off down the corridor still deep in his own thoughts.

It was only when Fred had reached a dead-ended corridor that he took a moment to pause.

He fumbled with the knot of his tie and wiggled it looser, allowing it to fall much lower around his neck, and took a sweeping look around. He assumed that he must be in a far part of the castle where many rarely came, what with how far he figured he'd walked and the general look of uncleanliness that graced almost every inch of the corridor. A fine blanket of dust hugged the wall tightly and the ribbons of light that filtered in from the wall of windows that stood opposite exposed just how squalid the frames of the various portraits that hung on the wall were. Nothing was clean.

_When Filch says he's working, what does he actually do?_

For a second, he swore that he had seen a plume of white feathers creep along the skirting of a picture that looked as though it could have been of some elderly wizard in periwinkle coloured robes sitting facing the wrong way on the back of a rhinoceros, though he wasn't sure for the dust that frequented it. It could just quite as easily have been of a house elf eating double his weight in chocolate frogs.

But that was Hogwarts for you.

He rubbed at his eyes that still stung from earlier under his touch, and took another look around. The corridor was deserted with the exception of a cool breeze that drifted low over the stone flooring and caught him around the ankles for a brief second, and he realized how cold he actually was. He utched in his sweater so that the sleeve cuffs just reached over his hands and wrapped himself with his arms whilst deciding his next move.

_Might as well head back to the common room mate, at least it'll be warm up there._

He set off once more down the many corridors of the castle, and found it wasn't long before he had reached the foot of the Grand Staircase. By this time there were only a few students still making their way to what he assumed was the last lessons of the day, as they littered the stairs in small pockets, clearly trying to delay their journey as long as possible. He reached for the bannister to his right and allowed himself to pull his self along with it, occasionally abandoning it to make way for stray first years that were virtually catapulting themselves down the stairs with the sheer terror of being late for a lesson. At one point, he had to launch himself at the wall on the left to narrowly avoid being covered with first-year-shaped trample marks.

It was then that a large bellow sounded from behind him on the wall, and sent Fred skittering to the banner in front of him, a small shriek escaping his lips, before wheeling around to face the wall that was littered with hundreds upon hundreds of paintings, making it very difficult to determine where the noise had come from and, more importantly, who he was going to seek revenge upon for making him act like a scared little girl.

As far as he could tell, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

The figures within the paintings remained resolute in their happenings, not a single one straying from what they were doing to glance a look at the tall ginger-haired boy that stood attached to the bannister of the stairs, eyeing them all up and down. Although, one of them, a stocky wizard with a fairly unusual ginger perm and similar coloured wispy beard, rolled his eyes dramatically and shot a particularly nasty look towards the bottom of one of the frames a distance from him.

Fred, still unsure of what was going on, slowly slipped his hand into one of the pockets of his trousers and allowed his hand to furl around the handle of his wand. With that, he leaned in closer slightly, inspecting the painting that the permed wizard had indicated with narrowed eyes. There didn't seem to be anything out of place. It looked fine to him. But there must be something. He moved in closer. And closer. And closer so that he was barely an inch from the painting. Still nothing.

_Oh. Wait_.

_What's tha-_

**_'HAZAAAAAAAAAAAAR!'_**

And this time, Fred skittered back to the bannister quicker than Neville confronted with another Howler.

He wheeled around, wand aloft, and pointed it at the painting threateningly.

However, upon suddenly seeing who the unknown was, let out a long weary sigh and slowly begun to stow the wand back in the confines of his pocket.

After all, who could take the sight of a heavily armoured idiot yielding a sword far too big for him, and sitting on a fat pony far too small for him, as a threat?

'_Greetings comrade!' _the man shouted from inside the armour, sending his words reverberating inside it.

'_Urm... yeah, greetings Sir Cadogan' _Fred replied nonchalantly whilst beginning to continue up the steps in the hope that the overweight pony could carry the man no further. To his dismay, it could, and out of the corner of his eye he could see the unmissable shape of Sir Cadogan bobbing along in the paintings beside him, his oddly familiar plume of white feathers adorning his helmet splaying in ever which direction.

'_Have you been following me?' _Fred inquired, narrowing his eyes as the thought occurred to him.

'_Urm.. well.. I wouldn't sa-... rather a quest if you will!' _he bellowed.

'_Great'_

'_May I inquire as to the source of your tristfullness young sir?' _he shouted, lagging a short while behind Fred now, struggling to motivate the pony to move any faster through the paintings with a kick of his heels.

'_No'_

_'...Perhaps it is a maiden?' _he cheered.

'_Piss off' _Fred muttered under his breath, and began to take long bounds up the stairs which proved successful in losing the knight far behind.

He only rounded one more flight of stairs before he came upon the painting of the Fat Lady who today, same as everyday, was too busy admiring herself in some sort of utensil to notice anyone trying to actually enter the Common Room, who she only saw as an annoyance. He gave it a few seconds but when there was still no acknowledgment of him, he rapped on the painting stiffly with the backs of his knuckles which caught the woman off guard, and almost knocked her backwards off her stool.

'_Password?' _she spat, steadying herself and trying to re-arrange the slick back ringlets of hair that fell below her bosom.

'_Fortuna Major' _he grumbled, feeling more miserable than before, if it was possible, and stepped through the now open portrait into the opening passage to Gryffindor Common Room. Expecting, or rather, hoping, for the room to be empty, he began inwards but was surprised to be met by around ten Gryffindors, mostly students of younger years, littered around the room. And worst of all, George Weasley and Lee Jordan were sat on the couch by the fireplace, toying with different products from a garish orange box, right beside the way to their dormitory. Although apparently oblivious of his entering.

Not especially desiring a round of twenty questions with his brother and their best friend, he stepped very slowly and animatedly in an arc of the room, his arms outreached widely at each side as though that would somehow help. He assumed he looked rather ridiculous taking three times the amount of time to cross the room as any normal individual and that presumably everyone who was not George or Lee had their eyes transfixed on him, unable to tell whether he was trying to avoid someone or needed to go to the Hospital Wing.

He was only a few more steps from the passage to the dormitory but was no more than a metre from the backs of the two boys sat on the couch. He was stuck.

After a minute of holding frozen in his stance, arms outreached like some sort of demented dragon, he decided to take the risk rather than his initial idea of quietly rolling across the carpet. He took a deep breath and held it before taking quick steps across the distance left, hand alreayd outreached for the door handle. He was close. Almost there.

_'Well well well..' _an all too familiar voice sounded from behind him. '_Is Gred trying to avoid us?' _he added with a tone of playful mock in his voice.

Thwarted. He let out his breath and swung around to face his brother who was sitting the wrong way on the couch, grinning at him, with one arm laying along the back board of the couch and the other on top of that, propping his head up as he rested his cheek on his hand.

'_Pathetic' _he chuckled.

Accepting his defeat, Fred moped back over to them and sunk himself into the couch beside George where Lee had vacated for him in favour of the arm chair opposite, trying his best to muster up even a glimmer of a smile. But even that was a bit hard when he thought of Hermione, and everything that had happened.

'_Blimey mate, you look like you're about to pitch your self off the Astronomy Tower' _George remarked, noticing the lack of retort on Fred's part.

'_If it's about what happened with you and Hermione, then everyone knows about it already' _Lee added, tossing a purple square sweet back into the depths of the pumpkin-coloured box by the foot of his chair.

'_What?' _Fred spluttered, incapable of adding any further exclamations due to his brain still trying to comprehend that the entire school knew about his kiss with Hermione Granger.

_'Yeah' _George began, oblivious to his brother having a breakdown. '_Although, I've heard a million different rumors already. I think one of them involved Moaning Myr- yeah I think it was Moaning Myrtle- something along the lines of her throwing a brick at you after you tried saving Hermione who was trying to open the Chamber of Secrets again' _he continued with a laugh, whilst Lee Jordan looked to be assessing Fred as though looking for any trace of a brick-shaped dent in him.

'_But look... what happened? I've heard she's in the Hospital Wing, is she alright?' _George added more seriously, an apparent tone of worry in the breath of his voice.

Up until this point, Fred had still been choking on the idea of everyone knowing about him and Hermione to care what George had been saying afterwards, worrying over whether they all knew that she'd turned him down too, but had tuned in from his trance to hear the last few words he had spoken.

'_Urm... well... ye- I dunno, I left after it happened didn't I'_

A sharp force around the back of his head brought him from his thoughts as George had struck him around the back of his head with a book he'd picked up from the side table.

'_What d'you do that for?' _George reeled.

'_Well she kissed me and then said tha-' _Fred shouted back, clutching the back of his head with both hands to numb the blinding pain.

'_**SHE WHAT?**' _both George and Lee yelped in unison.

Fred looked around in confusion, from Lee to George, met by both of them with jaws hung agape with looks of pure shock and as though they'd been violently stupified.

'_But_... _but you said that everyone knows about me an-_'

'_Yeah that you had to save her from something, not that you snogged her!' _George exclaimed.

_'Shut up, shut up, shut up!' _Fred yelled as he pounced over on top of his brother and used both his hands to gag him. Muffled yells rang from George's mouth behind Fred's hand and it took a minute or two before they resided, and he could slip his hand from him knowing that he wasn't going to scream about his love life so loud that Dumbledore could hear it from his office.

Fred slowly clambered back to his side of the couch, watching his brother with a careful eye. George sat dumbfounded. Jaw still slung open. Eyes wider than humanly possible. He seemed to be trying to form words but none were coming out. Lee looked the mirror image - you'd have thought those two were meant to be the twins.

After a minute, George turned to the rest of the Common Room, who had been watching the commotion like owls, and cleared his throat as though nothing had happened and put on his best smile.

'_Clear off you lot... Fred's going to tell me about how he's gone mad'_

There was no movement from the young students.

'_...And about killing ponies and unicorns'_

A small first-year blonde haired girl gave a small shriek and began packing her things immediately, and the other lower year students followed, so that it only took a minute before the three of them were alone.

'_What in the name of Merlin happened Fred?_' George spoke, turning back to face him.

Fred recounted what Hermione had told him about what had happened before he had arrived, which earned winces from both George and Lee alike, and then told of what had happened between him and Hermione afterwards, and how she had turned him down- and called him stupid. Although, he did feel a slight relief in getting off his chest the burden he had been carrying around all day.

'_Women..' _Lee muttered under his breath.

Fred looked at George as though waiting for his grim taking on the matter, however, to his surprise, George was flashing a wide grin and had a familiar glimmer in his eye that he only had when he was plotting something particularly mischievous.

'_I think I have the perfect plan for this.'_

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes: Sorry that I promised I'd have it up soon and yet it's been two weeks. College just keeps getting in the way.<em>

_And I'm sorry because I always find writing dialogue between George and Fred the hardest, even though I'm a twin myself._

_But alas, I hope you enjoyed this long chapter! And as always, please please please review._


	8. A Visit in the Hospital Wing

The rays of sunlight blazed inwards through the stained glass windows that lined the height of the walls and only aided the room in becoming gradually more stifling and humid, the air hanging sickeningly thick from the high archaic arches of the Hospital Wing. Hermione sat propped up in one of the palid, scant beds at the far end of the room, the only other occupants being a rather pale second-year ravenclaw who periodically threw up in the paper basket beside him and a tall fourth-year hufflepuff who was snoring very loudly in his sleep, both situated nearer the mouth of the wing. In all, she found being confined to the Hospital Wing particularly frustrating, especially considering that she had missed all of the first day's lessons and would now be missing today's also. And on top of that, she couldn't stop her mind from burning with the bitter words of yesterday as she painted the walls with her thoughts.

_Oh god, why did I call him stupid, of all things? Now Ron will hate me, no doubt Ginny too, and George and.. well... Fred really must hate me..._

Surprising herself, her eyes started to water slowly at the thought. She had never seen Fred so hurt, so broken before, and knowing that she was the one who had caused it broke her heart further in two. The unkindly image of his face dropping upon hearing her words sketched itself on the inwards of her eyelids so as to be a constant plague, as indeed it had been upon her the previous night when sleep had purposely evaded her in favour of leaving her to drown in her regret.

_...and I kissed him. I kissed Fred Weasley. Ron's older brother and I kissed him. I kissed him then told him he was stupid, and a player._

She threw herself back down on the bed, facing the ceiling, her eyes still threatening to cry, contemplating whether there was a spell to make her fall asleep for a very very long time and wake up when everything had sorted itself out. Instead, the sound of a door swinging open on its hinges and footsteps on stone interrupted her from her line of thought and curiosity coaxed her into sitting upright so that she could just see over the top of the tall green divider separating the beds which had been drawn on her right hand side.

All that she could see was the very top of an unruly mess of ginger hair.

Quicker than a Firebolt, she flung herself backwards on to the bed and scrambled with the sheets, yanking them over her, and laid still on her side in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets. Her eyes were still watering from earlier but she screwed her eyes tight to prevent them betraying her in her efforts to feign sleep. Today was not the day to talk to Fred Weasley.

The footsteps continued to sound across the stone flooring, becoming closer and closer until they stopped at what sounded as though the foot of the bed. She dare not angle her eyes open a fraction in case he caught her in her lie. She did want to speak to him, desperately, but not now, not when she didn't have the right words to apologise.

There was sounds of shuffling before someone clasped her hand that was splayed off the mattress in theirs, beginning to gingerly trace the inner part of her wrist with their thumb after a brief moment. Although she'd later tell herself it was under the overwhelming heat of the room, she felt her cheeks start to hotten and blush under his touch. Her heartbeat gently began to drum faster, her breathing had become rather stinted and her eyes resumed their watery state at the thought of how kind he was being to a girl that didn't deserve it, not from him.

'_Hermione, I know you're awake' _whispered a familiar voice close to her.

Feeling the most foolish she had in a very long time, she kicked herself for being so stupid. For allowing herself to believe, for jumping to the assumptions she had wanted to believe. And sure enough, when she had reluctantly opened her eyes, she saw that a short scraggly-haired bespectacled boy was squatted beside the bed, holding her hand, and a foot from him stood a tall ginger-haired boy who was looking at her as though she was the most fragile thing in the world.

'_Um here, I know yesterday we didn't bring you anything when we came but I managed to get these for you. I kinda ate one or two... but only because Seamus dared me I couldn't find an earwax one' _the ginger-haired boy said, smiling sheepishly as he handed over an already-opened box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans, grazing her hand with his as it passed, and then moved to sit on the foot of the bed where he continued to look on at her.

'_Oh... Thank you Ronald. And you too Harry.'_

She smiled weakly at them both. Although she knew that she should be grateful, extremely grateful, to have friends like the two of them, a part of her sunk inside with the weight of knowledge that Fred was still angry at her, and would most likely stay that way.

'_How did you know that I was awake?' _she asked the both of them, raising her eyebrow, trying to instigate conversation.

'_Well you're not exactly the quietest when you're jumping back in bed Hermione. I think it was louder than the time Peeves soared around Hogwarts screeching that song about me petrifying all those students... and then added the dance routine' _Harry laughed warmly, moving over to join Ron at the foot of the bed, who joined in with laughter of his own. Hermione's lips curled upwards into a smile.

'_Ah.. well, we can't all be quite as talented as 'The Chosen One'' _she joked light-heartedly, cocking her head to the side playfully and grinning.

'_Yeah I've heard of him, bit of a tosser really' _Harry replied, earning a wider grin from Hermione.

'_I second that mate' _Ron laughed before getting dug in the ribs by his best friend, and began play-fighting with each other at the end of the bed whilst they roared with laughter. At one point they narrowly avoided falling off the bed altogether. Hermione sat on top of the sheets with her legs crossed watching them nearly capture each other in simultaneous headlocks, laying her head to the side by propping it up with her arm resting on her knee, and sighed contently, shaking her head. There was something about being with her two best friends that made everything else seem insignificant.

Eventually they came back around, both refusing to accept that the other won although it seemed to Hermione that both were just as hopeless at fighting as the other. The laughter took a while to subside, what with how even more unruly and unkempt Harry's hair was than usual now and how red Ron had gone in the face from all the fighting. But then a thought struck Hermione.

'_R-Ron..._' she voiced sheepishly, apparently reluctant to continue. '_You don't hate me for what I said to Fred do you?'_

Ron shuffled awkwardly where he sat and dragged his hand through his hair, much like Fred did she noticed.

'_No, 'course not Hermione. Maybe it was a bit, well, nasty but there's no way I hate you for it. And like you told us yesterday, you were all worked up, you probably could've said much worse' _Ron said, glancing over at Harry once he had finished as though to check he had said the right thing.

'_Yeah, Ron's right' _Harry added with a nod.

'_And anyway, he probably said some right awful stuff to get you started' _Ron continued.

Hermione thought for a moment and was embarrassed by what she had now realised.

'_Well actually, he didn't.'_

_'He didn't?' _Ron asked. '_Well, what did start it off then?'_

Realizing that she had made a massive mistake engaging in this line of conversation, her eyes darted around the room with quiet desperation to find something else to talk about to avoid having to answer the question. Her mind was drawing up blanks, and Harry narrowed his eyes a fraction concernedly.

'_Hermione...' _he said slowly, '_We know he helped you from the Slytherins but... what happened after?'_

_'Um.. w-well'_

_'Hermione?'_

Her eyes began to betray her for the third time this morning as they became pale and watery and she simply couldn't contain herself any longer.

'_I kissed him!_' she squeaked and dived back under the covers.

There was a resolute silence between the three of them and she dared not think of how Ron would be feeling right now, or even chance a glance over the sheets to see his reaction. Her and his older brother. Together. It was true that nothing per-say had happened between Ron and herself, but that didn't stop the enveloping sense of guilt from paralyzing her. She had always suspected that something would have happened in the future, that they'd somehow end up together, but could they now?

Would they even be friends?

'_Erm. Right. Yeah. I-I think that I've got s- Mcgonagall set- I've got some homework to do' _Ron finally managed to get out, his voice pitchy, and then the sound of resonating footsteps could be heard briskly leaving the room. This only provoked further her quiet sobs from beneath the sheets that she tried to hide to no avail.

'_What, was he that bad ey?' _Harry's voice whispered close to her, an odd laugh in his voice, but then continued in a more appropriate tone. '_Look, I'm going to go find Ron and just, erm... help him with his homework. I'm sorry. I might be back soon Hermione, please cheer up?'_

Hermione didn't answer him but felt a hand settle on hers before his set of footsteps disappeared from the room also. And then there was no reason to hide her tears as she lay with her legs tucked into her body crying in to the sheets, her palid face flickering with unrelenting tear tracks, letting herself feel the entirety of her anguish with the whole of her body. She wasted away hours in the coarser corners of her mind, dwelling where nothing but self-loathing could prosper, and it took some while before her body had dried of all tears and could cry no longer.

As she lay, eyes sagging closed to welcome her into a halycon sleep, a fresh set of footsteps whispered through the room, slowly, faintly, not enough to bring her from the brink of a sweet slumber. A sliver of a head peeped from behind the green room divider, the rest masked by the shadow of it. They stood there for a while as she watched through almost-closed eyes, intrigued as to why Harry would be hiding, but slowly slipping into a pleasant unconsciousness.

But then he moved to the side of her bed, bathed in a pool of light, and she felt her stomach come alive with the flutter of butterflies wings.

Fred Weasley was standing beside her bed, surveying her with an expression of pain as his eyes lingering over her face where he had noticed the soft remnants of forgotten tear tracks that scarred her face. He bowed his head a fraction and let out a deep, weak breath before looking at her from underneath his eyebrows, a despondency in the browns of his eyes, seemingly unaware of her consciousness. Awkwardly bringing his hand from his trouser pocket, he made to reach for hers, but faltered, paused, hesitated. And shaking his head slightly as though to rid himself of a thought, he slowly brought it back down to hang at his side limply. And within another second, he had gone.

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><p><em>Author's Notes: Thankfully I got through this a bit quicker than usual, so please do enjoy and as always, please please please review!<em>


	9. Revenge

It was safe to say that winter had arrived upon Hogwarts early this year. In the week that it had taken Hermione to tirelessly convince Madam Pomfrey that she should be allowed to leave the Hospital Wing and return to her thorough studies, the leaves had fallen from the arms of the Whomping Willow and the surrounding hills and valleys had glazed over with a sheer cloak of the whitest snow. Even now as she walked through the vacant halls and corridors, she could feel the raw snap of frost advancing upon the castle, creeping over the window panes. She'd never been out in the castle at this hour before, perhaps with the exception of late night escapades to help Harry, but, being the kind wizard that he was, Dumbledore had offered to keep the Library open for as long as she needed in order to catch up with her classes and, frankly, she couldn't refuse.

The very first chance that she had, after catching up with Ginny on the latest happenings around the castle and kindly helping Ron and Harry with the homework they had left until the last minute, once again, she'd made her way along to the library and lost track of time somewhere amongst the heaps of parchment sprawled in every direction around her and teetering stacks of books that were threatening to topple. It was only when her eyes began to weaken and close whilst reading 'Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean' that she figured it was about time to admit defeat, so, gathering together stray pieces of parchment and bottles of ink and sending the books back to their corresponding shelves with a flick of her wand, she had began to slowly make her way towards Gryffindor Tower.

But as she trudged back along the corridors, she couldn't help but finding that her mind was wandering its own course, and all the pieces of the last week she had tried to oppress were gradually resurfacing. Not that she was all too surprised, she'd been quietly tormenting herself throughout her whole stay in the Hospital Wing. The thought even passed over her at one point as she lay in her hospital bed, staring out through the company of frozen windows, that perhaps she might be allowed to just _borrow _a time turner and then return it the minute she'd done, but immediately chastised herself afterwards for even thinking of being so brainless.

_Atleast Ron doesn't hate you._

So it seemed anyway. The second she had stepped through the portrait hole and into the common room earlier that day, she was surrounded and bombarded with an onslaught of inquisitive questions, various boxes of assorted magical sweets and a few homemade cards that wished her better (and in some cases, for rather hideous things to happen to the Slytherin girls, who were only facing a months worth of detention for what they had done thanks to a certain Potion's master). The commotion caused by her arrival didn't subside until at least ten minutes later, when it had seemed that people had ran out of new insults to mock the Slytherins with and realised that invading their common room and filling it to the top with agitated Cornish Pixies and possibly a Blast-ended Screwt just for good measure, though hilarious, perhaps wasn't the best idea. So instead of sending some first years to Hagrid's with a flame-retardant sack and a large net, the crowd previously surrounding her petered out and as they did, there stood her best friend. It was barely a second after she'd seen him that she was pulled into a warm hug with such fervor that her feet lifted an inch or two from the floor, allowing him to whirl her around as she clutched to him, half giggling, half pleading to be put down.

They eventually came to a stop, both still laughing as they drew themselves from the other. And then she noticed the tall, red-headed boy stood a few steps behind Harry, shuffling on his feet as he drew his gaze from them and up to look at her, though not directly in the eye, and smiled at her awkwardly as though he was unsure whether he was supposed to be there. It only took her a second before she had flung her arms around his neck, resting her head against him and trying to prevent herself from crying in front of the whole common room. Still in surprise, he stood with his arms raised at either side, looking at Harry with a look of pure shock as though to ask him what he should do, who responded with a roll of his eyes at his need to ask. Taking his own initiative, he slowly lowered his arms around Hermione and held her lightly as they stood swaying somewhat in the middle of the room. As they parted, a blush creeped up through Hermione's cheeks as Ron resumed his awkward stance behind Harry, though noticeably more content.

They had spent the rest of the early evening talking by the fireplace, picking their way through the boxes of sweets she had acquired and laughing at the magical sketches inside some of the cards that depicted various scenes that included hilariously unfortunate things happening to a certain white-haired student of Hogwarts, and never once mentioning what had happened in the week gone by.

Or Fred.

Not that Ron would want to. When Hermione had spoken to her earlier that day, Ginny had said that Ron hadn't spoken to Fred about what had happened yet, and probably wouldn't do either. He had never been the type for confrontation. Although, she'd also mentioned that nobody had actually seen much of either Fred or George since the beginning of term a week ago anyway. Probably working on some new product she had presumed.

And it was Fred that she was now thinking of as she stood staring beyond the windows of the darkened corridor, watching the dusky obscure colours of the night as they fused together, the ground having swallowed the last of the sky's light hours before. _Perhaps he's forgotten about what happened already and I'm the only one making a big fuss out of all this. It was only a kiss for him, just a kiss. So it should be just that for me, right? And it is. Just a... just a kiss. I'll apologise for calling him stupid the first chance I get too. He isn't stupid at all. He's really rather smart. Especially with Charms. Actually, quite brilliant really. Not to mention how good he is at Quidd-_

**BANG!**

The loud sound boomed through the corridor eradicating her channel of thought as she instinctively reached for her wand stowed in her back pocket and wielded it in every direction, wondering when it had become her that was always in the line of danger and not Harry. For a moment, everything was silent. Even the air around her hung still. But then a hushed noise could be heard, resonating from a small broom cupboard behind her that she'd scarcely noticed, growing almost louder but quieter at the same time. Feeling more curious than fearful, she took quiet, deliberate steps towards the door and without thinking for a second further, tore open the door with one hand and cast a spell producing an incredibly blinding white light with the wand in her other.

There were rather girlish screams that followed as the whole of the broom cupboard was washed with the blazing light emanating from the tip of her wand, the screams not coming from her. As her eyes adjusted and the scene came into focus, she still didn't quite understand as she watched two ginger-haired boys open their tightly-closed eyes for long enough to realise who she was, and then proceed to quickly remove themselves from clinging onto each other for dear life.

'_Hermione' _George began, panting, '_thought you were'_

_'Someone else' _Fred continued, clutching at his chest.

'_Say you'll never_'

'_Ever do that to us again_'

'_Could have had'_

_'A heart attack'_

_'You crazy, crazy woman'_

Lowering her wand and stowing it back in her pockets, she watched on in confusion from the threshold of the cupboard as the twins attempted to regain their breath, neither of them doing a tremendous job as they stood, Fred panting in the corner, George bent over with his hands on his knees looking as though he'd just run ten laps around the Forbidden Forest. When neither of them had spoken for at least a minute, she assumed that she frankly wasn't going to get any form of explanation for what had just happened, but as she was about to speak, George cocked his head up and opened his mouth to talk.

'_To what do we owe the pleasure, Hermione?' _he said, still half-panting, winking elaborately.

'_Do I even want to know what you're up to this time?' _she asked, remembering what Ginny had said about them being absent for a whole week.

'_Tut tut tut, so disinterested when this is all for her benefit eh Fred?'_ he replied with a grin.

'_What?' _she said, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion as she looked from George, to Fred, who avoided her eye contact and continued looking everywhere in the room that she wasn't as he shrugged lazily at his brothers question.

'_Well if you don't want to know what we're up to...' _George added playfully as though he hadn't heard Hermione's question, moving towards the cupboard door in order to close it, when she stepped through the threshold and into the broom store itself. Now that she had put away her wand, the cupboard was a lot darker but as she stepped inside, she could see odd vials of broom polish, spare gloves for flying, and quite peculiarly, a black hexagonal box that sat just behind George's feet.

'_What, you continuing that business you've started is supposed to benefit me? I hardly think so' _she said smoothly, sticking her chin out a fraction and gesturing to the hexagonal box, realising that it must be another one of their products.

'_Actually, no. Getting revenge on Malfoy for what he did is suppose to benefit you' _George said plainly.

'_G-Getting... oh no, you're not are you? You'll be expelled!' _she wailed, lowering her voice.

'_To the well organised mind, expulsion is but the next great adventure' _he retorted, winking once more.

'_I don't think those were Dumbledore's exact words' _she said, trying to suppress the small smile that was already creeping onto her face.

There was a short silence as George grinned widely and Hermione tried her best to give him a reproving look that wasn't working, and instead ended in a little giggle. But then she glanced over at Fred, who was still stood mostly blocked by George, trying to pretend as though he wasn't there, and her stomach began to tighten with knots.

'_Fre-' _she began.

'_Your bruise has gone' _Fred said plainly, turning his head to look at her directly for the first time that night.

'_What?' _she said, taken aback at the piercing nature of his eyes.

'_Your bruise. From the first night of term. It's gone' _he said once more, even more plainly than before.

'_Oh... yes' _she replied, bringing a hand to lightly graze the spot where it had been, '_It has'_

There was silence once more as Fred returned back to pretending either he, or she, wasn't there and Hermione felt an all too familiar blush hotten on her cheeks as she watched him do so. George stood in the middle, pursing his lips awkwardly as he looked at his brother as though he knew what he was thinking.

However, it was then that an all new set of footsteps could be heard becoming louder and louder as they trod over the stone flooring in the corridor outside, and every occupant of the broom cupboard shared the exact same expression of surprise. Before either of the twins could think of a spell to cast to conceal themselves, Hermione whispered 's_tay here_', shot out of the room and slammed the door shut in time to see a black-haired seventh year prefect shuttle around the corner and stop upon seeing her.

'_Why are you out of bed at this time?' _he inquired in a business-like manner, walking closer towards her.

'_Oh... um... Dumbledore, he said I could stay in the Library until I had finished' _she said in a decidedly much louder voice so that both Fred and George could hear what was happening.

He considered her for a moment before shrugging.

'_Right, well you should be on your way now. I'll walk with you'_

_'Yes... yes, certainly' _she agreed, still quite bewildered.

And as she strode quickly off with the prefect close by her side, she could have sworn that her heartbeat was syncing with the speed of her footsteps, and that maybe, just possibly, she could hear the quiet opening and closing of a cupboard door and the hushed footsteps of two ginger twins.

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><p><em>Author's Notes: Thank you for bearing with me when I take so long to upload new chapters, I'm so genuinely sorry that it took so long.<em>

_And just as a side note, I'm not planning on having them fighting for much longer, one chapter at the max._

_And then you'll get cuteness._

_Please review also, it means so much to me when you do, I love to hear what you've got to say._


	10. Surprises

Hermione laid in her dormitory early the next morning, very much awake, having found that, not for the first time this week, sleep had purposely evaded her. Using the backs of her hands, she rubbed at her eyes weakly as she continued to stare upwards at canopy of her bed, watching it wearily as the deep breathing of those in deep sleep played through the room in whispered harmony. The large, aged heater standing in the middle of the dormitory persisted admirably in its effort to bask the room in its honeyed warmth, the fire licking at its iron rib cage, as the snow continued to fall outside. She rolled over onto her side and took a deep breath as she nestled her head further into her pillow.

It was finally the weekend at Hogwarts and, in according fashion, most students took advantage of the fact that they could perhaps stay in their beds a little while longer. And whilst all the others slept, Hermione couldn't help herself from thinking about what had happened the night before. When she had saved the Weasley twins from what surely would have been detention, or worse, and when Fred had talked to her for the first time in what had felt like months, albeit about a bruise. And, ever so slowly, she could feel a vague flutter of wings take to her stomach as her lips curled upwards into an honest smile. Today would be the day that all would be forgiven, and everything would be right again, she could tell.

And with that thought in mind, she slipped out of bed and opened the trunk at the foot of her bed, taking out her warmest clothes and pulling them on. Making sure to make as little noise as possible, she stepped out of the room and made her way down towards the Great Hall for an early breakfast. The corridors were eerily empty and still, but as she arrived at the large wooden doors, they swung under her touch and revealed, once more, the familiar hall with its four tables spanning the length of the room, lined with odd pockets of students and the gentle hum of conversations. As she had almost expected, the only two people sat at the Gryffindor table were a black-haired bespectacled boy reading an edition of 'Quidditch Through the Ages' and, sat across from him, a ginger-haired boy that was attempting to both wolf down a plateful of sausages and talk at the same time. The second boy drew his gaze upwards for a moment, and spotted her looking at them with an air of amusement. He gave her a clumsy smile, trying to wipe the food from around his mouth as she made her way over towards them and dropped herself by the left of Harry.

'_I expect Quidditch practice will be cancelled won't it?' _she said, indicating towards the frosted windows as her legs clambered over the bench.

'_Yeah' _said Harry as he too looked towards the high-rised windows, putting down his book, '_I don't expect that even Wood is that mad to try it in this weather'_

Hermione made to reach for a plate of toasted bread far left of her and, as she did, she caught sight of Ron take advantage of her momentary absence and whisper something in Harry's direction, though didn't catch what he had said. She purposely lingered there for a moment longer, watching the two of them out of the corner of her eye as she saw Harry nod and apparently cease the hushed conversation. She reared herself back to their company, pretending as though she hadn't seen, and nibbled, somewhat enthusiastically, on her piece of bread as she gingerly looked at one, then the other. Harry was pretending to be inspecting the front cover of his book whilst Ron looked around the room quite uncontrollably, his cheeks beginning to blush under her gaze.

'_Okay, what is it?' _she demanded of them.

Harry looked up from his book, seemingly unaware of what was going on and tried to apply his best 'I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about' face. Ron, however, was never as good as Harry at lying. His cheeks had turned a more violent shade of red that wasn't becoming of him.

'_What?' _he said in a pitchy voice '_It's not like-'_

There was a loud groan from Ron, befitting of someone who had just been kicked under the table by their best friend, and he clutched at his shin, wincing in pain. Harry's eyes widened at Ron as if to warn him against saying anything more, which Hermione unfortunately caught.

'_Seriously. What is it?' _she directed at Harry, figuring Ron was in a little too much pain to be talking, sounding more worried than curious now.

'_I-It's nothing, really..' _he said, before sighing. '_It's just that we were going to ask you if you wanted to come to Hogsmeade with us today because... Well, we were planning on getting you early birthday presents to cheer you up because of the lousy time you've had. It was kind of going to be a secret. To surprise you'_

Hermione was stunned into a temporary silence, and then threw herself upon Harry in appreciation.

'_Oh, Harry, you didn't have to!' _she squeaked as they embraced one another tightly.

'_I know, I know' _he laughed as he clutched at the folds of her jumper. '_But we wanted to.'_

The second she drew herself from Harry, she had thrown her arms across the table and brought as much of Ron as she could into a hug also, showering him with the same magnitude of praise as he grinned widely in to her shoulder. After a short while, they let go of each other and Hermione gave a small laugh whilst wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper as she noticed that more people had dragged themselves from their beds in order to catch the last little bit of breakfast. The Gryffindor table was almost full now, as were _most _of the others, which had made what had happened next even more enjoyable.

Draco Malfoy had entered the Great Hall, covered head to toe in patches of a thick brown sludge, flanked by a large number similarly unfortunate Slytherin students that seemed to have fallen victim to the same predicament. They walked hurriedly over to their seats at their largely empty house table as the smell of the muck wafted through the room, turning a few stomachs on its way. Almost immediately upon catching sight of them, the hall erupted into deafening whoops of laughter, with the exception, of course, of the Slytherins, who shot looks of pure loathing in every direction. No one was more entertained, however, than both Fred and George Weasley who were doubled over as they howled with laughter, looking as though they were about to cry with sheer pleasure. When they had regained themselves, and as the rest of the houses continued to roar with amusement, they took turns to give short bows to those few sat around them whilst they were praised with applause.

Hermione leant forwards and peered down the table at the two of them. This was what they had been doing last night and she had never been so pleased that someone had broken the school rules. She watched on as George broke once more into fits of laughter, joined by Dean Thomas who looked as though he was about to burst with enjoyment. And Fred, he sat grinning animatedly at those around him. Shaking hands with his brother. And then looking directly at her. Only for a moment, but a moment that seemed to linger. She couldn't quite tell whether he looked happy, or sad, or neither, but she broke the eye contact first. She pulled herself back into her seat and turned to share a smile with both Harry and Ron, who looked just as, if not more, amused than everyone else at the current predicament.

'_Bloody brilliant' _Ron said, shaking his head as he looked on at his two older brothers.

Hermione stared into her lap and smiled once more.

'_I'll just go grab my hat, it'll be cold in Hogsmeade' _she mentioned as she clambered back off the bench, '_I'll meet you outside in a few minutes.'_

Rushing back up to the dormitory, she found a pink woolen hat in a small compartment of her trunk and stuffed it inside her brown satchel, along with a matching pair of knitted gloves and a few sickles. She took a sweeping look of the empty dormitory and took a deep breath as she closed her eyes and smiled earnestly to herself. Today was most _definitely _the day everything would go right. Becoming aware of the time, she slipped quietly out of the room once more and went to join the two best friends she could ever have wished for downstairs.

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><p><em>Author's notes: What happens in the next chapter was meant to be included in this but it would be way too long with what I want to write.<em>

_And I'd just like to say thank you for putting up with my slow writing, I'm trying to do some more over Christmas._

_Which leads me on to my next point which is that, for those of you paying close attention to the timeline of the story, technically only really a week has gone by and it's still sometime in September. Buuuuuuuuut, in a few chapters I'm planning on having a christmas chapter and what not so I'm just making the point now that I'm not really sticking to a 'real' timeline at all._

_That did not make sense at all but I'm not even going to attempt to explain it._

_And, as always, please review because it genuinely makes my day :~)_


	11. Let It Snow, Let It Snow

The smell of roasted chestnuts were carried upon the lull of wind that was rising from the village up ahead and tugging on stray strands of hair and hems of coats. Each student trod amongst the others along the snow-beaten path, pulling their scarves higher on their necks and coat sleeves lower around their hands to ward off winter. Speckles of snow continued to fall towards the ground and accumulate as fine powder in the footprints they had left in the wake and along the low thin walls that ran alongside the winding path. Every so often, enchanted snowballs would fly effortlessly through the air and collide stoutly with someones back or legs and, more often than not, it'd be found to be a Slytherin's doing. Still they pursued onwards through the weather with the sweet promise of butterbeer lingering in their minds.

Hermione's hands felt raw and numb underneath her gloves as she walked a while behind the rest of the students, and she wondered how in merlins name both Harry and Ron managed without a pair. Especially seeing as they were, at this moment, grabbing handfuls of snow from the ground a few paces in front of her, throwing snowballs in the muggle way. They laughed loudly as they bounded along the path, ducking when the other threw one their way and trying their best to out-skill their opponent. It was clear who had won when Ron caught Harry off his guard, sending a snowball flying through the air that hit his best friend straight in his face. She wasn't sure whose face was redder, either Harry's from embarrassment, and sting of the snow, or Ron's whilst he exploded with laughter and clutched at his stomach. Harry turned to Hermione for sympathy but saw that she found it just as hilarious, though not so outwardly, her lips curling into a smile as she tried to suppress her small giggles of laughter with a hand at her mouth.

'_Oh, this is funny to you?_' he questioned, eyebrows raised in amusement. Eyes trained on Hermione still, he reached to the wall beside him and crunched his hand around a small pile of snow. Hand still furled, his lips grew into a playful smile and Hermione came to understanding.

'_Harry, no! Don't you dare!_' she threatened pitchily, beginning to take a step backwards.

The boy considered the snow in his hand for a moment, looking between both it and her, before pulling his arm back and throwing it in her direction. She just about managed to propel herself out of his line of fire as the ball of snow hit where she had been stood moments ago. Wheeling around to face him, she cocked her head to one side and let out a lighthearted scoff of disbelief. Harry only replied to this with a wide grin that reached from ear to ear in a way only his grin could. Ron, who had been watching on the entire time, couldn't help himself from letting out a chuckle as he crossed his arms and considered the sight of a flustered Hermione.

Her eyebrows raised playfully.

'_Am I amusing to you Ronald?_' she quizzed and, when there came no answer, she stooped to the ground, grabbed a snowball of her own and threw it as hard as she could in his direction. Catching him unawares, it hit Ron square in the face. Hermione had to bring both hands to her mouth to stop herself from laughing. The snow began to drip down on to his burgundy sweater whilst the three of them stood in a stunned silence. That was, until Harry ruptured into laughter.

'_Shut it, Harry_' he muttered and took a hand to his face to wipe away the rest of the snow, which left a faint red mark where it had hit him. Hermione had to giggle at how completely embarrassed he looked, which, in turn, made even Ron let out a small chuckle as he inspected his snow-covered hands and shook his head. Quite wisely, they then decided to call it a truce, figuring that Hermione had a surprisingly good arm on her and would perhaps put up more of a fight than expected, and started to follow the path once more. It didn't take long, however, before it petered out and revealed the frosted shop windows, warm lights and thatched cottages of Hogsmeade.

The first point of call was The Three Broomsticks which was heaving with students enjoying the break from their studies, making it hard for them to find anywhere to sit. Through the crowd, Neville beckoned them to sit with him and a few other familiar faces in their year, along with Ginny, to which they accepted and spent a good part of their morning laughing into their butterbeers and enjoying each others company. After a long while, they decided to leave the stuffiness of the pub and brave the cold once more in favour of visiting Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, where Harry, keeping true to his word, bought Hermione a new quill as an early birthday present. She protested at first, urging him not to buy her anything, but her stubbornness was matched in Harry and he wouldn't back down until he had bought her something.

She hadn't noticed Ron's absence until he reappeared whilst they were in a small corner of Tomes & Scrolls, with a small black bag by his side.

'_Bought anything nice?_' she said off-handly, giving him a quick glance before returning her gaze to the bookshelf where she mumbled the name of the books to herself as though she were looking for a particular one. Her focus was intent enough that she didn't see him open the bag and pull out a rectangular box made of a green velvet with silver writing etched on the top.

'_It's your birthday present_' he beamed, and offered her the package.

She turned to him in surprise, shock. She hadn't expected that they'd be buying her two seperate presents. Just the one, the quill that Harry had given her. Ron smiled humbly and gestured the package to her once more. She faltered a moment, unsure to whether she should accept such an expensive looking gift from him, but then gingerly and politely took the box from his hand and began to slowly open its wrappings. Laid in amongst the black tissue paper that filled the box, unworn and pristine, was the most beautiful necklace that she had ever come across. It was made of a polished silver and in the centre, a small blue jewel that gleamed when it caught a ray of sun passing through the window. Her eyes began to sting as she fought off the need to cry and she gave a weak laugh, and gave him a quick hug.

'_This is the nicest thing you've ever done. Thankyou Ron._'

He continued to beam at her, and even Harry, who had now come to stand by Ron, was smiling ear to ear.

'_And to finish off the birthday celebration, I'm thinking back to The Three Broomsticks for another round of butterbeer?_' Harry suggested, to which Hermione smiled and nodded, seemingly still unable to take in how lucky she was to have the two of them as her best friends.

'_Oh, but first can I just keep looking for this book?_' she added as she remembered, though feeling a bit cheeky for saying so. '_It's just I've been looking for it for while and-_'

'_Hermione it's fine, we'll just go find some seats and you meet us there when you're done_' said Harry, sensing her worry, and both he and Ron flashed a smile before disappearing back out of the door and in to the street, heading in the direction of the pub.

Hermione carefully wrapped the tissue paper back around the necklace and placed the lid securely back on top, and then stored it safely inside her bag until she could put it in her trunk later on. Coming to the smart conclusion that it'd be hard to find the book she wanted in amongst the shelves upon shelves of disorganised stacks of books, she called the assistant over and within a few minutes had found it and bought it.

As she stepped out of the doorway and back into the street, slipping the leftover money into her front pocket along with her wand, she saw Fred Weasley stood across the street with his back to her, leaning against the wall in front of him with one hand. However, when she took a few steps further, she saw that he wasn't alone. Angelina Johnson, a member of the Gryffindor quidditch team, was stood opposite him wth her back against the wall as they spoke to one another, pinned by his arm.

And something within Hermione turned sour. With a now firm grip on her wand, she drew it from her pocket and held it underneath her coat, before whispering a few words in a hushed voice. And then she watched as a small pile of snow from the roof of the shop they were stood against _accidentally _fell and landed right on top of Fred's head. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing at the sight of him as he jumped with fright and near enough fell over, and then slipped away towards The Three Broomsticks.

Inside, the mood was still the same joyous one as when she had left earlier. In the corner, a group of locals were sat sipping their Firewhiskeys and singing out of tune versions of their favourite Weird Sisters song, which included an interesting rendition of "Do the Hippogriff" accompanied with dance moves. She found Harry and Ron sat at a crowded table towards the back of the pub with Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan and Ginny Weasley, sipping their butterbeers with an extra one to one side, presumably for her. But she found that she no longer felt like enjoying herself. Infact, she didn't quite feel like doing anything at all. Her brief encounter with Ron's older brother had bothered her a bit more than it should have. And she couldn't shake the feeling.

'_Hermione, we're all going sledging later. Want to join?_' said Harry and glugged a large mouth of his drink.

'_N-No, I don't think so... I think I'm just going to head back actually. There's post that I should probably send so, I think I'm going to go to the Owlery for a while_'

Her suggestion was met by protest and urges to enjoy the rest of her early birthday celebrations, but she eventually managed to fight them off and found herself walking the lonely route back up to the castle grounds. It took less time than on the way down, due to a lack of snowball related incidents, but she didn't enjoy it as half as much. Her mind wandered to the five of them enjoying themselves as they thrashed around in the snow, seeing who would be the quickest down the hill, and she felt miserable for abandoning them when this was supposed to be a day especially for cheering her up. And she felt even more miserable at letting them all down by _being _miserable. She just couldn't win against herself.

The Owlery did nothing for consoling her mind either. It was a fairly large circular stone room on the top of the West Tower, cold and drafty in the winter months, and made her wish that perhaps she'd have brought another jumper to keep herself warm. Owls of different breeds and colours were nestled here and there on perches that ran up the wall on every side and on the higher landings above. Having lied about having post to send, but figuring there was nothing better to be doing, she had come here anyway to try and occupy herself. She had often done so before, just to look at the birds, as she found herself doing so now. They looked so peaceful whilst they slept or waited for an errand to fulfill, or, that was, until-

'_I've got a head full of snow thanks to you_' came a loud voice from behind her.

Hermione turned around to see Fred Weasley stood in the doorway of the room, with speckles of white snow evidently still vexing his hair here and there. Something inside her burnt at the sight of him, and all she could feel was some sort of inexplicable anger. He was keeping his distance, waiting for her to speak. She thought it best not to give him the satisfaction he wanted.

'_I don't know what you're on about_' she said as she folded her arms and stared back in to his eyes, voice sickly innocent.

'_Oh, do you not?' _he spoke, hands in his pockets, feigning surprise.

'_No' _

'_Hair. Snow. You' _he said accusingly, pausing after each word.

'_I fail to see how this is my fault_' she laughed, though somewhat unconvincingly.

'_Come off it, Hermione. You did it, didn't you?_' he said in a softer voice.

'... _So what if I did?_'

'_Why?_'

She narrowed her eyes as she looked him up and down from her position across the room. He continued to stare back at her, his eyes boring into hers, refusing to break the eye contact between them. Drawing her bottom lip inwards with her other, she started up again.

'_B-_' she began, but faltered and broke the eye contact in favour of looking down at the floor to her left. It was a moment before she spoke again.

'_Because I felt like it_'

'_Because you felt like it? Suppose if I feel like a screaming competition with a banshee, shoul-' _he spoke with a grin.

'_Stop it, Fred_' Hermione interrupted quietly, rolling her eyes weakly, still unable to look him in the eye as she continued to look at the floor with her arms crossed.

'_Stop what?_' he replied plainly.

'_Pretending like we haven't been talking' _she said quickly, finally bringing herself to look at him again.

'_Well. I.. I've..._' he began, but didn't know how to finish. He brought a hand to his head and ruffled his hair awkwardly, looking at her with sad eyes. Unfortunately, she took this as a sign that he hadn't really wanted to talk to her.

'_Well I apologise for ruining your time with Angelina, if that's what you wanted to hear. By all means, don't miss time with her on account of me_' she quipped and turned from him to face the back wall, partly so he couldn't see her screw her eyes closed and take in a deep breath of air. There was a stiff momentary silence that was only broken by the noises of owls flying backwards and forwards in the higher landings.

'_Seriously, it's not like t-_'

'_I'm sure it's not_'

'_Whatever_' she heard him say quietly, followed by footsteps ringing off the stone flooring. He sounded dejected, sad. She felt so angry at him yet at the same time had the overwhelming urge to speak, to sort things out, to forgive him instantly. A mixing pot of emotions was boiling inside of her and she felt that if she didn't do something soon, she would surely burst. Burst with anger. With sadness? Both?

'_I'm sorry!_' she shouted as she spun on her heels to face him again, finding that he had just made it back to the doorway and stopped in his tracks at the sound of her voice. Figuring that she wouldn't have the courage to continue if she had to say it directly to his face, everything began to blurt out of her at once uncontrollably. '_I'm sorry for calling you stupid, and I'm sorry for the whole snowball thing, and I'm even sorry that I haven't said sorry before now. I've been meaning to, I really have, since the moment it happened, I-I just can't do the right thing around you and I always end up making a fool out of myself. You're not stupid, you're actually really smart, and then I had to go and kiss you which only made things even more complicated and I've been tearing myself up over it. And then we had that silly arguement. And.. if you want the truth, I didn't regret kissing you at all and I only said those things because I had no idea what else to say. I haven't felt right since, and... it's just... would you please say something?'_

Fred hadn't moved an inch. He still stood in the doorway of the room with his back faced to her and his hands in his pockets. She'd begun to think that he'd taken to ignoring her again, but then he turned around with his trademark crooked grin etched upon his face and walked a few steps back towards her.

'_What did you say? Didn't quite catch that_' he said in a cool voice, cocking his head to the side playfully.

She rolled her eyes as she shook her head, trying to keep a smile from her face but failing miserably. She knew he had heard what she'd said.

'_I said I'm sorry_' she repeated.

His grin grew immediately wider as he rocked on his feet and then looked back up at her.

'_I'm sorry too_'

He continued to smile at her, causing her to give in and break into a earnest smile of her own. After a comfortable silence, he rocked backwards on his heels again and started to walk back towards the doorway. He lingered there for a second and glanced back at her, before disappearing from the room and around the corner with a large grin stretching across the width of his face.

Hermione was left alone in the room once more and she had never been more confused. She didn't know whether this made the two of them friends again or not.

But she hoped that it did.

* * *

><p><em>Hoped you liked this chapter because I quite enjoyed writing it. Question: Do you guys like it when I do chapters from Fred's point of view?<em>


	12. True To Form

The confusion that she had felt in the aftermath of her conversation with Fred extended throughout the rest of the day and even into the next, and the next, and the next, and the next. Her mind was so concentrated on trying to decide if Fred that he was sorry, and on how silly he must have thought she was by pouring herself out to him like that, and when the next time they'd speak would be, that she couldn't focus on a thing. At one point, McGonagall had asked her a question, as she usually did, and Hermione had been so worked up in her own mind that she gave completely the wrong answer. She was mortified and spent the rest of the lesson sunk low in her chair as she avoided everyone else's surprised glances.

Even Ron, who things like this usually sailed right past, noticed there was something amiss with her. Both he and Harry had tried to coax the cause out of her the whole of Sunday morning at breakfast, but had got bored and given up by Monday when she'd repeatedly blamed the stress of studying and catching up on work she'd missed. She liked to think that she wasn't so much lying to them, as telling a small perversion of the truth. She honestly was feeling the stress of having to study, which wasn't helped by the fact that the two of them continued to rely on her to help them with a great deal of their own homework that they'd left until the last minute. As a result, she usually found herself in the library surrounded by various books and odd pieces of crumpled parchment, as she did currently.

The loose curls of her hair splayed itself over the large wooden desk in a small corner of the room and her nose inched itself closer and closer to parchment as she scribbled pieces of information down. When she had filled the parchment, she took a moment to grab a new piece and then set straight back to work again. Every so often she'd lean backwards and relax into her seat, dropping her quill on to the table to take a minute of rest and surveying the rest of the room. She hadn't quite realised how far behind being off for a week could set you, and, being Hermione, she wanted to make sure all of her work was thorough and precise. And after she had finished _her _work, she began on writing explanatory notes on the uses and benefits of using venomous tentacula in uncommon potions that she'd promised she'd finish for Ron and Harry whilst they started on the rest of their disastrously large workload. They knew they could always sweet talk her into helping them out when they _really_ needed it, and, honestly, she was happy to help if it spared them detentions with a certain hook-nosed professor.

As it was, Madam Pince was so accustomed to having her in the library that it was as though Hermione had become part of the furniture, so that when she moved off to look for more books or, on very rare occasions, tried to strike up a conversation with her, the librarian barely batted an eyelid. Or do very much at all other than stamp books. She seemed, in Hermione's eyes, to be in a perpetual cycle of book stamping, where when she had stamped them all, more seemed to appear from nowhere, or rather, everywhere. But, in this case, Hermione couldn't have been more content with being part of the furniture. And at least studying here kept thoughts of Fred at bay.

There were never great amounts of students in the library, to nobodies surprise, usually only Hermione and perhaps the odd few first years whilst they still bothered to take care with homework. So when a new sound of footsteps ringing off the floor broke her concentration, she stopped for a moment and allowed herself to crane her neck in the direction of the door. She was unable to make out who it was, however, due to the rows of grand wooden bookcase that crept towards the ceiling and obstructed her view. The only thing she could see through the small few strips that weren't filled with age-old books was a headful of ginger hair that seemed to be heading in her direction, and she drew her neck back in and continued to study the words of the open book in front of her.

As she predicted, there was a scraping across the floor of chair legs and somebody sat down across from her, all the while she continued to read.

'_I haven't quite finished these notes for you yet, Ron. Have you finished your Charms revision alread-_'

'I w_ouldn't bet on that,'_ said a voice that clearly wasn't Ron.

'_Oh,_' she said as she drew her upwards, her book becoming suddenly disinteresting.

'_Not unless falling asleep in the common room is his new way of studying,' _he jeered.

'_Funnily enough, he's been 'studying' like that for years,' _she laughed, and so did the boy.

There was a silence.

'_Hi,_' blurted Hermione.

_Really? _she chastised herself inwardly. _That is the best you can come up with?_

_'Hi,' _he beamed back at her nevertheless.

And although her mind was becoming increasingly dizzy from thinking of something else to have said, Hermione thumbed the book in her hands slowly and let her eyes brush over him. He was still as unkempt as how she remembered him on the first day of term. The sleeves of his ashen jumper were pushed messily up at his elbows and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone so you could see a brief glimpse of his collar bone when his loosened tie wasn't in the way. The rest of his shirt stuck out awkwardly from the hem of his jumper, half-tucked in and half out and crumpled. His eyes flickered with flecks of amber in amongst the darkness of hazel. And his hair the same unruly mess that it had always been.

There was a brief silence as they looked at one another.

'_You know, you're making quite the habit out of sneaking up on me,_' she said as she returned her eyes to her book in order to have something to concentrate on. His face broke into an expression of confusion and raised his eyebrows.

'_What?_' he asked loudly.

_And I've said something stupid yet again._

'_Well, I- I just meant that you always seem to appear from nowhere, Fred,_' she laughed awkwardly.

There was another silence.

'_Fred might do, but I'm George,_' he said with a crooked smile.

'_Oh,_' she said, bewildered. '_Right. Yes. Of course. Sorry_'

She couldn't summon an amount copious enough to describe the extent of embarrassment to which she felt in that moment, but she knew that she desperately wanted to bury her head in her book and hope that he wouldn't be able to see the hot flush of her cheeks. Instead, she flashed an apologetic smile. They looked so much alike that it was hard to tell the difference between the two, even for Hermione who had spent rather large amounts of time in their company at the Burrow, but she had always managed it after a short while. She could feel the heat of his stare on her as she looked at anything that wasn't him, and wondered whether every Weasley could just naturally make her feel this way.

'_Is something wrong?' _he asked as though he had read her mind.

'_No, I just thought you were Fred, that's all,' _she replied, adding a humble smile on the end.

'_Well I guess you'll just have to put up with me instead,'_ he joked.

'_I've, um, I've come about Fred actually,_' he added on a more serious note.

'_Nothing to worry about,_' he chuckled, raising both his hands at his sides when he saw the expression on Hermione's face. '_It's more like I've come **for** Fred._'

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise and cocked her head to the side an inch, surveying his face as he continued.

'_He didn't really know if you were angry at him for walking away from you the other day in the Owlery, so,_' he finished and considered Hermione for a moment. Then he ran his hand through his hair in much the same way as Fred, and waited for her to speak.

'_I'm still not too sure why you're here,_' admitted Hermione.

'_Right. Well, he wanted to say that he's sorry Hermione. But properly this time. A-And that's for making a big deal out of something he shouldn't have as well as for ignoring you, and just being a complete utter git. The last thing he wanted to do was to make you upset. If you didn't want to kiss him, you didn't want to kiss him and he wants you to know that he knows he over reacted a bit. He wanted to say thankyou as well because he thinks you were brilliant the other night Hermione, even more than normal, and you didn't have to help us at all with Draco._'

Hermione sat quietly stunned, slowly trying to process what had just been said. Had he just said that Fred thought she was brilliant? She was sure that he had and tried, and failed, to restrict the smile that was beginning to stretch across her face. The boy sat opposite couldn't help but notice and flashed an earnest smile into his lap before flickering his gaze back to Hermione.

'_Why didn't he tell me this in the Owlery?_'

He stopped in thought for a moment.

'_He just didn't know how to, Hermione. Believe me, he's been sat trying to think of what to say for days now. __He wanted to say sorry in the Owlery, like, really wanted to. And not just a lame apology like 'I'm sorry'. The words just wouldn't come to him properly. __Not easy to get your head straight when you've just been hit with a pile of snow as solid as one of Hagrid's home-made rock cakes... or so I've been led to believe_' he finished with a laugh.

'_I can imagine,_' she laughed. '_Well let him know his apology is accepted. All of this started from a pointless argument in a bathroom, and I think we both just want to forget all the bad things we said since. And __I suppose I did over-react a bit when I saw him with Angelina.'_

'_...Can I ask why?_' he asked in curiosity as he leant forward in his seat slightly. '_Why did it matter that he was with Angelina?_'

Hermione was surprised by the bluntness of the question. And it seemed that no matter how hard she tried she couldn't form a coherent answer.

'_Um,_' she said pitchily. '_I- I guess it was since- Um. I suppose- I don't know actually_' she offered in the hope he wouldn't continue that particular line of conversation. It wasn't something she even really knew herself yet, not properly atleast. It seemed to work, however, as he leant back in his seat once more and considered what Hermione had said. After a short moment, he started up again.

'_It wasn't how it looked by the way, Hermione,' _he said awkwardly. '_She came up to talk about Quidditch, and she just came and stood across from him. She was only there for a minute. Angelina is just a friend. W- They're over... have been for ages_'

'_Really?_' she asked, not convinced.

'_Really,'_ he said honestly._ 'You have my word,'_ he winked and crossed his heart before holding up some sort of mock salute.

Hermione couldn't help but smile.

'_The word of a prankster? Oh, how comforting,__'_ she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes playfully. The boy sat opposite replied with feigned offence and clutched wildly at his chest. It was true, both he and Fred were so much alike that it was startling.

_'I don't think I even got to say thank you for what the two of you did to Draco. It was completely brilliant_. _Mad, but brilliant._'

'_No need to thank us,'_ he smiled heartily._ 'Couldn't let that slimy git get away with thinking he can do anything he wants all of his life could we?' _

Slowly, his hands began to furl into a loose fist on the table so that Hermione could see the whites of his knuckles. He saw that she was looking and relaxed them slightly, and moved them from the table.

'_Not to a beautiful girl like yourself anyway,' _he half-laughed, trying to diffuse the tension he had created.

In a small corner of her mind, Hermione was quite perplexed. She could never remember George being this inexplicably nice to her before and most certainly never so complimentary. Everything about him today was odd. They'd often be around each other when they were at the Burrow and with the others, but they didn't speak to each other all that much even then, so it was weird for them to be having such a long conversation with one another now. It seemed to Hermione that George was the more 'reserved' of the twins (which meant even then he was louder than most students at school) whereas Fred was the one who would tend to strike a conversation with her. In some small odd indescribable way, this didn't make sense.

But then something clicked.

Hermione flashed a knowing smile to herself and chose her next words very carefully.

'_You've been awfully nice to me, George. I can't thank you enough. I honestly can't imagine Fred ever being this nice to me. He's way too stubborn.;_

The face of the boy opposite looked taken aback and slightly offended.

'_Well, yeah, maybe he can be a bit stubborn sometimes but-'_

_'And too proud,'_ she reeled as though she hadn't heard him.

_'I wouldn't say prou-' _he said indignantly.

_'But I suppose you could say he is kind of nice.'_

_'Well__-' _he began with an oddly cocky smile.

_'Even if it is in his own really, really, really strange way._'

'_Ju-_' he yelped.

_'Not you though, George, you're much nicer.'_

_'I'll have you know that Fred is brilliant. And funny. And he's very, very, very nice to people when he wants to be,' _he said crossing his arms matter of factly.

'_Mhm, not that you mention it, you can be very very very nice to people when you want to be, Fred._'

'_Now that's m_-' he started. '_Wait, what? No. I'm George_' he blurted quickly, and unconvincingly.

'_Nice try, Fred'_

The boy looked down and when he looked back upwards, an awkward smile curled itself into the corner of his thin face.

'_How did you know?'_

'_It was a hunch. Although I guess a beautiful girl such as myself should have known soone-_'

'_Right, I take it all back,'_ he joked quickly as he stood to make a leave, when Hermione grabbed the hand that hung at his side. She quickly worked her fingers lightly into his so that their hands were intertwined, her slight hand slipping into the warmth of his palm. Fred's eyes flickered between the girls face and their married hands to try and make sense of the moment.

'_This meant a lot, Fred. Thank you._'

'_My pleasure. _You genuinely had me going at the end there.'__

_'Now that was my pleasure. Even if you did pretend to be George,_' she laughed and rolled her eyes.

'_Well, yeah,_' he laughed awkwardly back, using his free hand to massage the back of his neck. '_I just didn't know whether you'd be angry at me or not you see. You know, for just walking away. This way seemed easier. I never meant to upset you in the first place Hermione. Not ever. I couldn't deal with myself if I did.'_

Hermione got up from her seat so they were stood opposite one another and drew herself up on to her tiptoes as she leant over and placed a gentle kiss on the soft of his cheek. She lingered there a moment. His eyebrows raised an inch as she pulled herself back and smiled at him sheepishly from the other side of the table.

Becoming aware they were still holding the others' hand, they quickly pulled away from each other.

'_I, uh, I think your brother might be in real need of these,_' said Hermione, indicating the piece of parchment she had begun to fill with notes and quickly set to gathering her things as Fred watched her do so. When her arms were heavily leaden with borrowed books and pots of ink, she spoke again. '

_Bye, Fred,_' she smiled.

She had only taken a few steps before the books began to slip from her grasp and she had to stumble to regain her hold over them.

'_Come here, you,_' said Fred as he swept in behind her and started to unload some of the books from her. After a few moments, he had full arms also which was met by a roll of the eyes by Hermione.

'_What?' _

'_I can take care of myself you know,'_ she reminded him wearily.

'_I know. But it doesn't hurt to help,'_ he smiled cheekily.

With another roll of her eyes, Hermione had set off back towards the common room and Fred, arms heaving with books, followed close in her footsteps.

* * *

><p><em>Is there anything you guys would like to see happen next? If there is then please let me, I'm more than open to suggestions on where to go next :~)<em>

_Might not be another chapter for a few weeks though, I have exams and taking longer to write my chapters often means they're better too._


	13. Influence

The bed of coals flickered with a vermilion glow as the last of the warmth escaped the mouth of the fireplace and fine trails of its balmy breath drifted towards the ceiling above. Ruddy with effort, it spat a few last embers before drowning in to the dim light of the early morning. Without the thin gauze of heat that it had provided, the dull ache of the cold returned once more to the boys dormitory. Around the room, half-awake students made half-hearted attempts at pulling their blankets higher up their bodies, or curling their feet back under the refuge of their sheets. But, eventually, one after another, each of them managed to drag themselves from their beds and brave the cold in order to pull on their clothes and trudge to the noise of their growling stomachs to the Great Hall in search of breakfast. That is to say, all but the three boys who were now left in the empty dormitory still very much in a state of semi-consciousness, enjoying the vague haze of being between dream and reality. The shape in the far corner of the room that was Lee Jordan stirred from dreams of legendary encounters with famous Quidditch players, whilst the faces of many beautiful witches faded in to obscurity as George rolled over sluggishly on to his back and rubbed at his eyes. For Fred, however, the faint smell of roasted chestnuts and fresh parchment were already being forgotten as he began to tune back in to reality.

It took a few moments for them to adjust.

'_You awake?_' muttered George to the room in general. Replies in the form of lethargic grunts sounded from the still motionless bodies of Lee Jordan and Fred, signalling that they were in fact awake, but not necessarily happy about it.

'_You hungry?_' he offered up to the room again.

It was mutually agreed by the harmony of their grumbling stomachs in the dark that they were and that perhaps it would be to get some breakfast. In the darkness, they struggled from their beds and began pulling on odd pieces of clothing, clumsily fumbling with the buttons of their shirts and pulling at the knots in their ties. George hopped about barefoot over the bitterly cold floor in search of a missing shoe to the amusement of his brother and best friend, who had to subsequently dodge from his line of fire as the newly retrieved shoe was lobbed in their direction, much to the amusement of George.

Fully clothed, they wandered down the stairs in to the common room below and jostled with one another as they clambered out through the portrait hole that led out on to the Grand Staircase. The light provided by the many flickering stems of flames in their torch holders was vivid and stiff in the early morning, and George let out a low groan as he brought his hand to eyes.

Getting up on time had certainly never been any of their strong points, especially when they had all stayed up late in to the early morning down in the Common Room with Harry, Ron and the other Gryffindor boys. When they weren't poking fun at Ron or talking at length about how they were making improvements to their newest products, they were trying their chances with Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, or playing Exploding Snap. However, it was quickly decided that perhaps it wasn't the _best _game to be playing after Ron managed to singe parts of his eyebrows in an attempt to build a card house with the Exploding Snap cards.

Having gotten up later than everybody else, the staircase was almost all but empty, with a few students dotted here and there.

'_I'll be glad when this day's over,_' George moaned, rubbing at his eyes again, '_then we'll be back at the Burrow and there'll be none of this waking up early business.'_

'_Just one more day, mate,' _said Fred, '_and then you can sleep away the whole of Christmas if you want to.' _He patted George on the shoulder, who seemed to pick up at the idea. Christmas was just what everyone wanted, and it couldn't come quick enough. Granted, it wasn't very long to have off, but any time off from having lessons with Snape was like good enough as far as they were concerned._  
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Lee didn't seem impressed by the idea.

'_It's alright for you two! You'll be at the Burrow together. I'll be so bored,' _grumbled Lee Jordan, shambling down the stairs beside Fred and George, '_and I barely even got any sleep last night so today's going to be boring too.'_

The twins shared a quick glancing look across at each other.

'_Funny that, isn't it, Fred?' _asked George, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion as he turned look at Fred to his right._  
><em>

'_Very funny indeed, George,' _Fred agreed, mirroring George's expression.

Lee Jordan looked lost.

'_Wait, what's funny?_' he asked.

'_Oh, nothing, nothing' _George mused conversationally, '_it's just funny that you barely got any sleep-'_

_'-considering that you weren't the one who had to put up with your snoring,' _finished Fred.

'_Now that's something I definitely won't miss,' _smirked George.

Lee narrowed his eyes at George, who quickly replied by offering up his imitation of Lee's howling snores. He was cut short, however, as he began darting down the stairs in front of Fred, with an annoyed Lee in pursuit. The two boys began play fighting and taunted one another as they ducked from the others grasp, slipping on odd stairs and knocking in to the occasional bewildered first year.

Fred looked on at them for a few moments.

'_Having fun?' _he called to the two boys, one of whom was currently being held in a vice-like headlock by the other.

_'Oh, yes,' _came Lee's voice very sarcastically, muffled against George's body. '_Yes, this is exactly where I wanted to be.'_

Fred skimmed down the stairs between them and, by the time he had reached their side, George still hadn't relinquished his hold on a now slightly redder Lee. He couldn't help but laugh at the way the two of them looked, with George loudly demanding surrender and Lee muttering obscenities that were muffled against George's jumper.

'_And it's a wonder why you never get girls,' _he sighed dramatically as he individually patted them both heavily on the shoulder.

'_Hey,_ _I can get girls!' _yelped George, offended for being included and forgetting to keep a hold of Lee.

'_Yeah... me too,' _panted Lee half-heartedly, having now wriggled free, leaning on his knees for support as he tried to catch his breath back and loosen his tie from around his throat.

'_Harassing them through your Quidditch commentary doesn't count, mate,_' George pointed out.

'_Well, just because he,_' Lee breathed, lazily pointing at Fred, '_snogs Hermione every so often, doesn't mean we're pathetic.'_

George turned to face his brother at the mention of this.

_'Yeah, __aren't you two due another good snog any minute now?' _he winked.

Since they had seen him carrying Hermione's books back to the Common Room two days ago, George and Lee had taken it upon themselves to not miss one moment of teasing him about her. The minute he had stepped through the portrait guarding Gryffindor tower, arms loaded with books about topics he had no clue about, and looked up to see them grinning at him from where they sat across the other side of the room, he knew that he would never hear the end of it. Whenever he tried to tell them nothing had happened and that there was nothing going on between them, it only ever made it worse for him.

The worst part was that, since neither of them had really talked about it, he didn't even know whether he was telling the truth or not.

However, he'd quickly come to realising that the best way to annoy them was to play them at their own game.

'_Yeah, we're scheduled in for tomorrow actually. Want me to pencil you two in later, too?' _replied Fred, puckering his lips and reaching out to Lee who tried his hardest to push him away. After a few moments, Lee finally managed to fend off Fred, who then grinned widely as he turned and continued on down the stairs ahead of them.

Unhappy with the lack of reaction they received, George and Lee followed and appeared just behind him at either side.

'_But, then again,' _mused George loudly, though acting as though Fred wasn't there, '_maybe we were wrong and_ _they don't like each other after all.'_

_'Yeah, maybe,' _agreed Lee, equally as loud.

He had to admire their persistence.

_'And you know what that means?' _asked George.

'_He's a bad kisser?' _

_'Well, that too, but I was thinking more of the fact he's obviously rubbish in be-'_

'_Are you finished?' _he asked curiously, rounding on them as he reached the bottom of the Grand Staircase. He directed this more so at George, giving him a look that really said: Are you finished? Because, if not, I'm sure there's plenty of places I could stick my wand.

As he said this, George's gaze drifted somewhat so that it looked as though he was looking _past_ him before it quickly flickered back to Fred once more. The faintest beginnings of a grin was starting to curl itself across his face.

'_Yes,' _he said, giving Fred a look that really said: Oh, not in the slightest.

'_Heads up, lover boy,' _he crooned, leaving Fred confused, as he tugged at Lee's jumper and the two of them slid off to the other side of the entrance hall.

'_Wha-' _he began, turning to see where they had left for, when he caught sight of her walking through the large, wooden doors that led students in from the grounds.

She had done her hair differently, today. It was pushed off her face and ran down her back in a long, single, brown plait, and where odd strands had come loose, she had tucked them away behind her ears. It must still have been snowing from last night, he thought to himself, as last defiant snowflakes still clung to her hair in places, and all along the bottom of her trousers were large, damp patches of darker grey where the snow had already melted from her walk. In one hand, she was carrying rolled up pieces of paper, and with the other she had pulled her cardigan sleeve over the bottom of her hand and was wiping at the faint trails of water on her cheek left by the melting snow. She was smiling an uncertain, but warm smile. And that's when he realised he had been staring, and that she was walking directly towards him, and was almost there. As she approached, she glanced uncertainly over her shoulder to see what he was looking at. He needed an excuse. Quickly. But what? She had turned back now and looked as though she was about to talk. Help. He needed help.

'_H-'_

_'The painting,' _he blurted loudly, barely even aware that he had said it himself.

'_Oh,' _Hermione said sheepishly, surprised at the outburst, '_The what?'_

From a distance away, he could vaguely hear the sound of his brother trying to suppress his laughter in vain. George would pay for this.

He didn't even know to which painting his brain was referring to. But he'd said it so he might as well stick to it now.

'_The painting,' _he repeated awkwardly, his mind at a loss for what to say next.

_Think, Fred, think!_

'_I was- I was just admiring it. It's, uh, it's quite something.'_

_Great._

Out of the corner of his eye, Fred could see George and Lee stood a short distance away, both silently sniggering, one behind his hands and the other stroking his chin, pretending to look thoughtfully at the painting also, as his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. He hoped that Hermione hadn't seen them.

'_The painting?' _echoed the girl

'_Yeah, the, uh, the painting,' _he repeated with even less commitment than before as he heard just how stupid he sounded.

Hermione turned to look back the way she had just came, and, to Fred's relief, there was a painting at the far side of the room.

Inside the frame, a woman in a deep green robe was sleeping, slumped in a very elaborate wooden chair with a stiff, high back. There were dark, circular-looking objects at her feet, but from this distance he couldn't make out what they were, and her waist-length grey hair was splayed over the open book sat in her lap. He'd never paid attention to any of the paintings whilst at Hogwarts, and he certainly had no idea whose this one was.

Deciding that their need for food was overpowering their need to make fun of him, which could always wait until after breakfast, George and Lee slid from the room and through the large, wooden doors that led in to the Great Hall, grinning back in Fred's direction as they did so. This left the two of them both looking at the painting at the other side of the room, as a handful of other students milled about the hall too.

'_I never took you as a painting sort of person,' _said Hermione conversationally.

'_Well, it's a nice one,' _he said, glancing across at Hermione, '_you know, as paintings go that is.'_

_'It is quite nice, you're right,' _she agreed, smiling back at him.

Maybe he'd get away with this.

'_Only_ _right for a witch as famous as she was, I suppose,' _he said, guessing that she must have been to have her painting up in the entrance hall.

It was only when he heard a small giggle did he look over to Hermione again. She was smiling playfully at the ground.

'_What's so funny?' _he half-laughed, confused as he looked back at the wall with the painting in an attempt to find anything even remotely funny.

'_Wizard, Fred. Barberus Bragge. Of all people, I thought _you'd _be able to recognize the inventor of the Golden Snidget when you saw him,' _she said, looking at him, flashing the same playful smile.

'_You weren't admiring the painting, were you?' _she asked.

So maybe he hadn't gotten away with it, after all. And he wondered whether she had known all along.

'_Not even in the slightest,'_ he admitted.

Hermione gave a short nod, a shy smile in the corner of her face.

'_You __just __look really beautiful today, is all,' _he said. When he chanced a glance across at her, he could see the smile slowly stretching across her face as she looked shyly at the floor again.

'_Thank you,' _she said, looking up at him.

'_Guess I_ s_hould have known better than to lie to somebody who knows more about Hogwarts than its founders,' _he grinned, earning an even bigger smile from Hermione.

_'And, as far as I'm concerned,'_ he whispered, leaning over so that he was right next to Hermione, '_the only special thing about that painting is that it's the one Susan Bones threw up next to in her first year.'_

Hermione let out a loud giggle of laughter that bounced around the walls of the entrance hall, followed by a loud snort. She threw her hand up to her mouth, but it was too late as those still dotted around the hall were suddenly staring at her. Beginning to blush under the weight of their gaze, her eyes flickered from person to person.

'_Sorry,' _she managed to squeak sheepishly.

There was a moment where nothing happened, but then they collectively seemed to lose interest and quickly returned to their conversations as before (with the exception of the occasional student who kept glancing back at her every so often) until it was just Hermione and Fred once more. Hermione groaned and buried her face in to Fred's arm, clutching at the folds of his jumper and hoping never to have to see the light of day again.

'_It's not so bad. I mean, I have absolutely no idea what a Golden Snidget is, and you laugh like a hyena,' _he said, his grin widening as Hermione re-surfaced and hit his arm with the rolled up papers in her hand, failing to suppress her smile.

'_It's what they used to call the Golden Snitch. Don't you pay attention in _any _of your lessons, Fred?' _she asked, rolling her eyes as she smiled at him.

He seemed to deliberate this for a moment before coming to the conclusion that the answer was definitely no.

Another strand of hair had fallen from Hermione's plait now, he noticed, and had curled itself along her cheek. She gave an idle blow to try and move it, and then tried again, and after it didn't work the second time, she went to brush it away when Fred got there first.

'_Here,' _he said, half-laughing, stepping towards her and using one hand to quickly and lightly brush her hair back behind her ear. Hermione felt her breath hitch as she felt his hand leaving a line of warmth across her cheek. His eyes flickered to hers, and when they caught them, she quickly looked down at her hands, fiddling with the rolled up papers. Fred took a step back and flashed a quick, awkward smile. He hadn't been aware of what he was doing until he had done it.

Hermione replied with a shy smile of her own, biting the inside of her lip ever so slightly.

'_Oh,' _Hermione blurted, '_I forgot. I was coming over to ask if you were coming out in the snow after breakfast? It's beautiful.' _

'_If I don't fall asleep in my breakfast, then yeah, I'd love to__,' _he replied.

'_We were thinking of having a snow ball fight actually.'_

'_Ah well, in that case, I strongly advise that you sit this one out.' _

_'And what, may I ask, is that supposed to mean?_' she asked, raising her eyebrows in amusement.

'_Well, just that, if not,_' he said, the same old crooked grin slowly stretching across his face, '_I'll probably end up getting you._' Fred grinned and held up his hands as though it couldn't be helped.

'_Not,_' she declared, '_if I get you first._'

She flashed him a daring smile, and in the next second, she had turned and was walking towards the doors.

She left him no time to form a comeback, but it wouldn't have mattered even if she had as Fred stood there, silently grinning to himself. All he could manage was a shake of the head as he watched her disappear in to the Great Hall, before he began to follow in the same direction. By the time he had reached the doorway himself and leant against it, she was already sat towards the far end of the table the Gryffindor's occupied, and he could have sworn she had glanced back in his direction before turning to speak to Harry, who was sat across from her.

If George had of been with him, he'd have told him that he was having quite the influence on Hermione. And if that was true, he didn't mind one bit.


	14. Home for the Holidays

'_Honestly, Ronald, they look fine,' _pointed out Hermione.

'_No, they don't,' _Ron grumbled miserably as he stared downwards in to his breakfast, his cheek propped up by one hand whilst the other arm rested heavily on the table that spanned the length of the Great Hall. Hermione waited for a further sign of acknowledgement from him but nothing came.

'_Harry, would you please tell him they look fine?' _she sighed lightly, turning towards him, and away from Ron who sat to her left.

Harry, who was sitting opposite the both of them, and who had been half-heartedly listening to their conversation, turned his attention from his meal and towards Hermione. She gave him a small pitying look, her eyebrows slightly pulled together in the middle and her head somewhat tilted to the side, that he knew was for Ron.

'_Honestly, they're fine,' _Harry affirmed, looking at Ron with a nod._  
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Ron answered with a low, inaudible mutter and began to lazily push a piece of egg around his plate with his fork. By this point, Hermione was exhausted of trying to convince him, and, instead of renewing any attempt, cast her eyes downwards towards her plate and sat glumly with her hands in her lap. Harry glanced between the two of them and rolled his eyes.

'_Well, at least we've learnt one thing from this,' _Harry offered to Ron, '_and that is that eyebrows are most definitely not resistant to Exploding Snap cards. Especially if you're trying to build a card house out of them.'_

There was no response from Ron.

'_Look - if you're that bothered - I'm sure Hermione could think of a spell to sort them out,' _he said.

Ron cocked his head upwards slightly and glanced at Harry before looking back down as though considering this option.

'_And failing that,' _grinned Harry, '_I'm sure I could find a razor and rid you of what little eyebrow you have left. All in the spirit of friendship, of course.'_

'_Shut up, Harry,_' laughed Ron, picking his head up off of his hand.

Hermione gave Harry a small, concealed look of thanks.

'_Would you?' _asked Ron sheepishly after a pause, looking sideways to Hermione as a blush crept up his neck.

'_Of course, Ron. I don't know why you haven't asked me sooner, actually,' _she replied.

'_Me too, I thought she'd be the first person you'd go to,' _said Ginny as she approached the table at Harry's side, sitting to his right.

'_Who told you?' _asked Ron dismally.

In reply, Ginny gestured with her head towards the approaching shape of George Weasley, who had Lee Jordan following close behind.

'_Great,' _muttered Ron, miserably trying to rearrange parts of his hair in an attempt to cover the parts of his eyebrows that had been singed.

'_How's life with no eyebrows treating you, Ronniekins?_' smirked George, patting his brother on the back as he clambered over the bench beside him. Ron shrugged his hand off and narrowed his eyes at him. Amused at his brother's sourness, George chuckled as he held his hands up in an act of surrender.

'_We come in peace.'_

'_Yup. Peace and all that,' _said Lee Jordan distractedly as he sat down beside George, eyeing a plate of sausages.

'_And for food_,' admitted George, leaning over to take a piece of Ron's toast.

Ron pulled his plate sideways away from his brother, and narrowed his eyes even further.

'_Speak for yourself, I came to laugh at his eyebrows,' c_orrected Fred, appearing at the opposite side of the table. '_Well, that and for food_,' he agreed, leaning across the table to steal a piece of toast from Ron, who was too busy arguing with George for trying the same that he didn't notice straight away. Hermione, however, saw and playfully shook her head disapprovingly, to which Fred replied with an almost unnoticeable wink as he sat down to Harry's left.

Harry raised his eyebrows slightly and looked between the two of them, eventually resting his gaze on Hermione and giving her a small grin. Hermione could only meet his gaze for a few seconds, trying to make her face look oblivious to what Harry was suggesting, before she had to look away, busying herself with pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear and readjusting her plait. At this, Harry's grin widened and he shook his head as he went back to eating the food on his plate. When she chanced a quick glance back across at him, Hermione could see that he was still smiling to himself as he chewed on piece of toasted pumpkin bread.

'_Hey!' _yelped Ron, now having drawn himself from George long enough to realise he was one short.

It was at this moment that, as it so often did at that time of day, the morning's letters and parcels were being delivered. The upper heights of the hall turned into a kaleidoscope of colours as owls of different species, ages and pigmentations glided through the air, circling the room for their owners and recipients. A small, stocky owl with grey streaks running along its pale feathers was the first to abandon ranks and soar downwards, skirting above the heads of various students before dropping a neatly wrapped package in front of slim-built Slytherin boy. Soon after, more and more owls followed and descended, relinquishing themselves of their heavy burdens.

Amongst the flurry of feathers, Hermione could make out the sight of one small, familiar, ashen owl that Harry had always thought looked more like a molting feather duster than an actual bird, and that, true to style, rather seemed to be falling more than flying. Ron must have caught sight of it too because he let out a sigh. '_Errol,' _he muttered in recognition. At this point, Errol appeared to spot them as well, as, with great effort, he struggled in their direction and, upon reaching where they sat, didn't land so much as crash, sending a few plates and goblets skimming down the table.

'_Ruddy bird,' _sighed George, whilst haphazardly retrieving some of the tableware with the help of Lee and the co-operation of a few Gryffindors sat further down the table.

Errol had tried to stand back up but was now slumped backwards on the table trying to catch his breath, his legs in the air.

'_Bloody menace,' _agreed Ron.

'_No wonder,' _said Ginny as she detached a large bundle of letters from its talons. '_Mum knows he can only handle one - It's like when she sent the fruitcake all over again.'_

'_Don't know why she bothered writing more than one,' _Ron said as he watched Ginny untie the brown string that held them together. '_We all know one's "Can't wait to have you all back home for Christmas this year" and "wrap up warm" and the other's telling Harry he's welcome to come to ours. And he knows that anyway so what's the point?'_

By this point, Ginny had opened the letter on top of the pile and her eyes were darting across the page as she skim read its contents.

'_Yeah, pretty much,' _she said after a moment, and passed it across the table for Ron to read._  
><em>

'_Harry, here, you have one too,' _she continued, as she passed it sideways to him. Harry tore the envelope, unfolded the letter and read through it.

'_Looks like you'll have to put up with me for another few weeks at yours,' _he grinned, flashing the letter in Ron's direction. It was evident in his face that he was already thinking of how much more fun he would be having at the Burrow than he would have had should he have stayed at Hogwarts again. For one, you couldn't play Quidditch whenever you wanted at Hogwarts.**_  
><em>**

'_Wait, so who's the last letter for?' _asked Fred, indicating the letter that was still sat, unopened, in front of Ginny.

'_It's probably mum apologizing for killing Errol,' _said Ron.

Lee looked at the owl with concern.

'_Shouldn't we help-'__  
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_'He normally loses consciousness, so this,'_ said George, gesturing to the bird who was still laid spread-eagle on the table panting for breath,_ 'is actually quite the achievement.'_

'_Oh. I don't know,_' said Ginny, considering the letter for a moment. '_It says it's for -_' she began, before her eyebrows furrowed slightly and pulled together in the middle.

'_What?_' asked Harry, beginning to lean over to see what she had seen.

'_It's just that - well, it's just that it says it's for you Hermione,_' she answered, before passing the letter across the table to her somewhat uncertainly.

Everyone sat at the table looked slightly confused, apart from Lee, who was still watching the feeble form that was Errol.

'_What would mum write to **you** for?' _asked Ron, looking at Hermione.

Hermione's eyebrows raised quickly as though in offence and Ron looked instantly uncomfortable.

'_It's not_- _well, I didn't mean it like tha- shes just never written to you has she,'_ he said sheepishly.

Hermione did have to admit that she herself was confused as to why Molly would be writing to her.

Coming to the decision after staring at the letter for a few moments that an answer wouldn't be reached by sitting around, she peeled open the envelope, pulled out the letter inside and quickly read it.

_Oh._

_'What does it say?' _asked Ginny eagerly.

'_It says that, if I want to, I can come and stay at the Burrow for Christmas,' _she announced, glancing around at the faces that were all looking at her.

'_Hermione, that's brilliant!' _squealed Ginny, unable to contain her immediate excitement.

'_So, it's alright then?' _she asked uncertainly, feeling as though she was invading on something she shouldn't be.

'_Alright? Of course it's alright!,' _assured Ginny, still smiling widely. '_No body minds at all, do they?' _she continued, posing the question to everyone sat at the table.

'_She has my vote, anyway,' _said George. '_We're always looking for new people to test our products on, when we have the time. Just as a matter of curiosity, would you say that you bruise easily or-' _

_'I think we'll skip Hermione for that one, George - we already gave her a bruise the size of a hippogriff, remember?' _reminded Fred.

'_Vividly,' _answered Hermione under her breath, which made Fred flash his signature mischievous grin that was slightly cocked to one side.

'_Fine. I'll put you down as an easily,' _grumbled George dejectedly.

'_Does this mean I can com-' _started Lee.

'_Sorry, mate, but if it was a choice between a screaming fight with a Banshee and putting up with your snoring for two weeks, I think I'd still choose the Banshee,' _answered Fred.

'_Oh ha ha ha, very funny,' _mumbled Lee, resting his cheek on his hand and resorting back to staring at Errol, who was now stumbling around looking for food.

'_So will you come?' _asked Ginny impatiently._  
><em>

'_Well, I'll have to ask my parents-' _Hermione began, but then she realised that the hall had fallen suddenly silent, with the exception of their small gathering at the end of the Gryffindor table. Shifting in her seat, she turned and looked back down the length of the hall, only to see rows of muted students staring towards the front. Turning towards the front of the hall, she realised its cause and watched silently, like the others, as Dumbledore raised from his seat and walked forwards several paces. The headmaster's long fingers furled around the fanned wings of the golden owl that constituted the top of the podium that stood before him, and his eyes faintly sparkled from behind his half-moon spectacles as he addressed the students.

'_It shall soon be the end,_' said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, '_of another term, and - indeed - another year._'

There was loud applause from all of the tables, who presumably couldn't think of anything better than not having to think about writing essays for another week or two. At his podium, Dumbledore smiled serenely and calmly waited for the noise to die down.

'_But, before I allow you all to leave and enjoy the festivities in whatever manner you so choose, first I must make two announcements. The first comes in relation to a celebration - or rather, a ball, if you will.'_

An excited whisper swept across the Great Hall, albeit almost entirely amongst the female students. The unanimous reactions from the boys took on more of the form of a begrudging grunt. Dumbledore stood perfectly calm as he watched them murmur themselves into silence.

'_To honour a special anniversary of the founding of this great school, the Great Hall will play host to the Founders' Ball in the new year. Every student in this hall,' _announced Dumbledore, '_will be welcome, should they wish to come.'_

Once again, murmurs swept across the length of the hall.

'_In regards to my second announcement, it is my belief - I do hope that I am not mistaken in saying this - that it will lift your spirits somewhat more.__ With the weather as it currently is,' _said Dumbledore, gesturing towards the snow-laden window behind him, '_myself at your age, I must admit, would not be unaccustomed to the temptation of throwing a snowball or two. It is with this in mind that I now leave you with my final gift of this year: for today, all lesson's are cancelled.'_

This time an almighty noise erupted in the hall, with students of all houses and ages cheering and whistling and clapping.

'_Yes, I must say I expected that_ reaction,' said Dumbledore humbly over the noise._ 'I hope to see you all soon in the new year, and that you shall all enjoy your time off for Christmas while you have it. I, myself, am rather hoping for some thick, woolen socks,' _smiled Dumbledore._ 'I find one can never have enough socks.'_

And, with that, he reclaimed his seat in front of the staff table that lined the front of the hall.

'_Brilliant!' _beamed Ron over the noise of the ongoing celebration.

'_Meet you all outside the Grand Entrance in 15 minutes?' _shouted Harry to the rest of the table.

There was a general agreeance as everyone stood to leave.

'_Why? What's happening?' _asked George loudly as he climbed off the bench, the others already having left, as Fred climbed over the table.

Once again, Fred was smiling the same crooked mischievous smile.

'_The mother of all snowball fights.'_


End file.
